Mrs,   Phoebe  A.  Hearst 


OLDEN 
GflTE 


Eugenie  H.  Schroeder 


From 

Taj -Mahal 

to  the 

Golden  Gate 


BY 

EUGENIE  H.  SCHROEDER 

S:':     IV: 


Can  you  the  thread  of  meaning  in  golden  cover  trace. 
If  so,  the  deep  revealing  will  illumine  heart  and  face. 


MELVIN  &  MURGOTTEN,  PUBLISHERS 

SAN  JOSE,  CALIFORNIA 

1913 


DEDICATED 
TO  MY  HUSBAND 


IN  MEMOR1AM 


Perchance  a  thought,  may  aid  a  life  desiring, 
Perchance  a  wish,  in  streams  of  love  is  bent, 
May  lift  a  soul  to  hights  of  its  aspiring, 
Out  to  the  world,  this  little  book  is  sent 


INDEX 


Pages 

The  Taj  Mahal — The  Legend  of  the  Jasmine 

Tower 5-6-7-8 

"Shagni-Robe"— A  Tibetan  Legend 9-10 

The  Pearl— A  Fable  of  India '.    ....    10 

Mars 11 

Eternal  SaM 12-13 

From  Night  to  Light 14-15 

Aries 15 

Inspiration 16-17 

Our   Susan 17 

Harmony 18 

The  Message 19-20-21 

The  Rivulet 21 

The  Music  of  the  Night 22 

The  Secret  of  the  Flowers 23-24-25 

A  Waking  Dream 26-27 

A  Dream      27 

The  Great  White  Dome 28-29-30 

California 30 

In  Memoriam 31-32 

Eugenie's   Birthday 32 

El  Dorado 33 

A  Tribute  to  Clio 34-35 

The  Song  of  the  Brook 36-37 

The  Sun-Child 38-39 

Wedding  Bells— Eugenie  and  David 39 

Progress — Written  for  a  Suffrage  Meeting    .    .    .  40-41 

To  My  Sweetheart 41 

In  the  Gloaming 42-43-44 


Lines  to  a  Friend  on  Her  Seventieth  Birthday  .    .  45-46 

Constance 46 

My  Lady  in  Blue 47-48 

A  Sequel  to  My  Lady  in  Blue 48-49-50 

A   Birthday   Bonnet 50 

Spring 51 

Alaska  .    . 52-53 

California's  Call — Poppy-Land 54 

The  Minuet — A  Pantomime  from  the  "Legend"   55-56-57 

A  Bachelor's  Reverie — A  Pantomime 58-59-60 

A  Nosegay  to  Mary 60 

To  an  Authoress 61 

California  Women 62 

Our  Rosalie 63 

The  Birth  of  Love— 50th  Anniversary 64 

Wit— Humor 65-66 

Swastika 66 

Auf    Wiedersehen    .    . , 67 

Our  Captain— To  Mrs.  Lovel  White  . 68 

Wedding  Bells — Sweethearts,  Our  Florence   .    .    .  69-70 

A  California  Jewel— To  Elena 70-71 

Our    Motto 73 

Club  Toast  in  Song 72 

Noel 73 

Easter  Morn 74 

Christmas 75-76 

The   Star   Treader 77 

Memories 78 

Auld   Lang   Syne 79-80-81 

The  Golden  Gate  .  .  82 


Copyrighted  IQIJ  by  Eugenie  H.  Schroeder 


From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


THE  JASMINE  TOWER. 
A  Legend  of  India. 

In  Ancient  days  as  legends  tell 

Of  far  India's  tropic  clime, 

An  Emperor  ruled,  so  wise  and  good, 

His  noble  deeds  with  lustre  shine. 

Beloved  by  his  people  all 

From  cities  far  and  near  they  came. 

To  offer  tribute  at  his  throne 

And  sing  in  praise  his  honored  name. 

His  palaces  of  marble  white 
A  bridal  veil  of  lace  they  seem 
Adorned  with  flowers  of  precious  gems 
Like  the  shimmering  fabric  of  a  dream. 

From  the  far  shores  of  Italy 

He  brought  o'er  seas  the  workmen  skilled 

To  rear  this  palace  on  the  sands 

And  with  his  precious  treasure  filled. 

Turrets  and  spires  sprang  toward  the  sky, 
Trees  and  flowers  grew  wondrous  fair, 
Streams  leapt  and  sang  in  playful  sport 
To  drive  away  dull  thoughts  of  care. 

A  harem  with  most  beauteous  maids 
Sent  by  the  neighboring  potentates, 
With  song  and  dance  and  laughter  free, 
To  fill  his  hours  with  gladsome  fetes. 

But  there  was  one  more  fair  than  all. 
Who  lived  within  the  sculptured  walls, 
She,  idolized  as  maid  and  wife, 
The  chosen  of  the  palace  halls. 


From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


His  heart  to  her  in  rapture  given, 
His  love  so  great  for  her  alone; 
So  she  was  made  queen  of  his  realm, 
All  bowed  the  knee  before  her  throne. 

And  in  those  days  of  strife  and  war, 
One  saw  the  crescent  on  the  field, 
And  kingdoms  were  the  prize  to  win, 
And  might,  not  right,  was  on  the  shield. 

Mumtaz  Mahal,  Shah  Jehan's  bride, 
A  secret  held  within  her  breast, 
The  cause  of  all  this  love  sublime, 
And  only  he,  her  lord,  had  guessed. 

She  had  become   a   Christian  maid, 
In  early  childhood  she  had  learned 
Of  the  dear  Christ,  the  King  of  all, 
And  for  His  care  and  love  she  yearned. 

To  be  so  faithful  in  her  love, 

To  guard  the  peace  of  her  lord's  throne, 

To  rule  the  people  in  the  right, 

In  love  so  had  her  mission  grown. 

And  sunlight  followed  in  her  path, 
And  birds  did  carrol  out  their  lay, 
And  happiness  to  all  she  brought, 
Like  sunshine  on  a  cloudy  day. 

Shah  Jehan  held  her  to  his  breast, 
And  called  her  his  pearl  most  prized, 
And  shed  a  love  around  her  there 
That  brought  the  gladness  to  her  eyes. 

And  he  did  build  a  fairy  bower, 
Of  lace-worked  marble  pure  and  v/hite, 
And  it  is  called  "The  Jasmine  Tower" 
And  it  was  sacred  in  his  sight. 


From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


This  tower  he  raised  so  high  aloft 
Amidst  the  clouds  it  looked  a  dream, 
And  in  the  walls  were  jewels  set 
To  form  the  star-eyed  Jasmine. 

And  here  among  the  jewels  so  bright 
He  set  his  pearl  of  priceless  worth, 
And  then  he  told  her  of  his  love 
And  they  did  rest  'twixt  heaven  and  earth. 

And  contemplate  the  great  beyond, 
Their  voices  raised  in  prayer  to  Him 
Who  sheds  His  beams  to  all  the  earth, 
Which  bring  the  peace  and  love  within. 

So  side  by  side  they  spent  their  days 
In  planning  good  to  all  around, 
And  thus  they  grew  to  be  as  one, 
A  perfect  jewel  in  the  crown. 

But  one  day  this  bride  so  loved, 
Was  stricken  with  the  fever  dread, 
That  devastates  this  tropic  clime, 
And  so  was  o'er  the  border  led. 

Shah  Jehan  felt  his  life  had  gone 
And  all  the  sunshine  left  his  sight; 
Yet  one  spark  burned  with  tiny  ray, 
This  was  his  knowledge  of  the  light. 

His  love  still  hers,  through  all  the  years, 
His  Christian  faith  in  after  life, 
He  knew  his  pearl  was  waiting  there, 
To  welcome  him  from  earthly  strife. 

So  opposite  the  Jasmine  Tower. 
He  reared  a  tomb  so  wondrous  fair, 
Its  golden  dome  and  minarets 
A  fairy  palace  in  the  air. 


From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


And  even  the  doors  were  like  fine  lace, 
And  set  with  gems  of  rarest  hue. 
Within  a  golden  casket  there, 
He  lay  his  pearl  so  pure  and  true. 

And  when  the  silver  moon  came  out, 
Then  would  he  go  within  the  tower, 
And  cry  his  grief  out  to  the  stars, 
Through  many  a  heavy,  dragging  hour. 

And  there  at  last  his  soul  went  forth 
While  gazing  on  this  hallowed  sight, 
Which  stands  today  in  beauty  rare 
A  phantom  palace  in  the  night. 

And  strangers  tread  the  sacred  stones, 
And  speak  of  days  of  fame  and  power, 
In  silent  whispers  soft  and  low, 
The  legend  of  the  Jasmine  Tower. 

The  Taj  Mahal  stands  in  its  might, 
Today  the  Glory  of  the  East, 
Guarding  within  its  treasured  vaults 
The  King  and  Queen  whose  life  has  ceased. 

But  memories  linger  near  the  spot, 
Where  true  love  into  life  did  spring. 
And  sunbeams  chase  the  clouds  away, 
And  flowers  grow  and  birds  do  sing. 

This  peerless  tomb,  the  gem  of  earth, 
We  see  in  dreams  like  fair  mirage, 
Bathed  in  the  moonbeams'  silver  light, 
With  lips  so  dumb — O  wondrous  Taj. 


From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


"SHAGNI-ROBE." 
A   Tibetan   Legend. 

In  far  Oriental  lands, 
Deep  within  the  mountain  wilds, 
Live  the  Sages  of  the  East, 
Bands  of  holy  Buddhist  Priests. 

When  an  Arhan  is  born, 
He  a  Patriarch  to  be, 
One  of  Tibet's  thirty-three, 
Oriental  hierarchy. 

Sage  of  super-human  sight. 
Boundless  vision,  knowing  all, 
"Shagni-robe"  their  wisdom  named, 
Lore  of  Boodh  through  India  famed. 

Shagni-robe  so  spotless  white, 
Made  of  grass-cloth  soft  and  fine. 
Robe  so  pure  of  Neophite 
For  initiation  rite. 

On  Himalaya's  snow  capped  height, 

Trodden  by  no  sinful  foot, 

On  a  frozen  bed  so  white, 

Lay  a  dewdrop  pure  and  bright. 

Arhan  born  at  midnight  hour, 
Wakes  this  drop  of  rainbow  hue; 
Dewdrop,  to  a  plant  doth  change 
By  some  mystic  influence  strange. 

Nine  and  seven  stalks  shoot  forth, 
From  this  plant  in  snowy  sleep, 
Buds  of  Holy  flower  conceal 
Nature's  wisdom  to  reveal. 


10  From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


"Shagni-robe"  this  plant  is  called, 
Found  on  heights  of  purity; 
Woven  midst  prayers  and  incense  light, 
By  hermits,  of  Himalaya's  site. 

Spotless  as  the  Arhan  soul, 
Out  into  the  world  'tis  worn, 
Shedding  rays  o'er  land  and  sea, 
Buddhists'  life  of  chastity. 


THE  PEARL. 
A  Fable  of  India.    Svati- Venus 

When  the  star  Svati  is  in  the  ascendant, 
Sending  its  rays  over  ocean  and  lea, 
Up  from  the  depths  of  old  Neptune's  palace, 
Rises  the  oyster  on  the  blue  sea, 

There  on  the  crest  of  the  wave  it  is  floating, 
Sailing  along  in  its  little  gray  ship, 
Waiting  to  catch  the  raindrop  descending 
Holding  it  prisoner,  while  tides  rise  and  dip. 

With  this  precious  raindrop,  lit  by  the  star's  ray 
Clasped  to  its  bosom,  it  dives  through  the  deep, 
Where  in  the  coral  caves,  billows  are  whispering 
Waking  the  mermaids  from  their  dream  sleep. 

Within  its  cradle  rocking  so  gently, 
Buried  in  silence,  it  grows  day  by  day, 
Then  is  the  drop,  illumed  by  the  rainbow, 
Changed  to  a  pearl  in  some  mystic  way. 

Then  let  our  soul,  like  this  pure  jewel 
Hear,  understand,  then  in  silence  rest, 
'Till  by  development,  we  grow  in  beauty, 
Truth  comes  to  light  within  our  breast. 


From  Taj-Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  11 


MARS. 

Migmar — Mars  Nyimar — Sun 

Lhagpa — Mercury.  Days  Again — Cycles 

Sleep  slumbering  earth. 
Thy  work  of  day  is  done; 
Rest  all  ye  life, ~ 
Till  the  rising  of  the  sun! 

Migmar  in  crimson  veils, 
Sweeps  eye  on  earth  so  still; 
And  in  protecting  love, 
Lhagpa  his  missions  fill. 

Both  servants  of  Nyimar, 
Left  watches  of  the  night 
In  his  absence  set  on  high, 
Reflecting  his  great  light. 

Yet  both,  in  Kalpas  past, 
Were   Nyimars  in  the   sky, 
And  may,  in  future  "Days  again," 
Become  two  suns  on  high. 

So  nature's  Karmic  Law 
Ceaselessly  rises  and  falls, — 
Thus  we  can  comfort  shed 
When  toiling  pilgrim  calls. 

Let  stronger  souls  keep  watch 
Like  starry  eyes  of  night, 
That  children  on  the  way 
May  reach  the  Path  aright. 


12  From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


ETERNAL  SAKI. 

Life  is  but  an  empty  bubble, 

Hence, 

Full  of  care  and  full  of  trouble, 

Thence, 

Here  today  and  gone  tomorrow, 

Whence? 

Why  look  forward  to  the  morrow, 

Laden  both  with  joy  and  sorrow? 

Do  not  from  the  future  borrow 

Any  care. 

Bubbles  one  and  bubbles  many, 

Bright  and  fair. 

Pour'd  from  Saki's  golden  basin 

In  the  air. 

Floated  here  and  there  at  random 

Everywhere. 

Every  changing  wind  of  morning 

Wafting  north  and  south,  and  scorning 

To  be  held  in  leash,  or  guided 

Anywhere. 

Bubbles  blue  and  bubbles  golden — 

Rainbow  hued, 

Pure  and  clear  as  heart  of  child 

When  they  appear; 

Confident  and  proud  and  buoyant 

Without  fear, 

And  when  zephyrs  gently  lift  them 

In  their  folded  wings  and  sift  them 

Into  stronger  currents,  lower  in 

The  air. 

Then,  in  their  transparent  beauty, 
Earthward  bound, 
Changing  pictures  chase  each  other 
All  around; 


From  Taj-Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  13 


Church  and  spire,  with  earth's  mire 

May  be  found. 

And  the  clear  and  crystal  bubble 

Knowing  not  of  earth  and  trouble, 

Slow  descending,  settles 

On  the  ground. 

And  the  pictures  now  are   changing 

Very  fast. 

Love  and  joy  and  pleasures  follow — 

Nothing  lasts. 

Blacker  tints  of  pain  and  sorrow 

Overcast ; 

And  the  bubble,  troubled  by  the  sight, 

Tries  to  lift  its  sphere  again  to  light, 

But  the  mud  on  surface  holds 

It  tight. 

And  in  chains  of  bondage  feebly 

Struggles  on. 

Gathering  more  of  earth's  illusions, 

In  the  sun, 

'Till  the  darkness  of  the  night  throws 

Shadows  on. 

Finally  in  fear,  the  bubble 

Broken  hearted  with  the  struggle, 

Bursts  its  bonds  and  settles 

In  the  dust. 

But  look  yonder,  in  the  moon's  rays, 

Forms  appear, 

See  an  Angel's  shape  is  hovering 

Without  fear; 

Watching  all  the  changing  bubbles 

Far  and  near. 

And  as  each  regains  its  freedom, 

And  awakes  from  its  delusion, 

Then  in  gladness  joins  its  comrades 

In  the  air. 


14  From  Taj  -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


FROM  NIGHT  TO  LIGHT. 


We  stand  on  the  threshold  longing 
For  knowledge  of  mysteries  untold, 
Emerging  from  night  into  sunlight, 
When  Truth  shall  all  secrets  unfold. 

In  the  darkness  we  stumble  and  falter, 
Forever  seeking  the  light, 
'Till  some  friendly  hand  lifts  the  curtain, 
Which  has  been  obscuring  our  sight. 

Then  in  rays  of  resplendent  glory 
From  the  Great  Universal  they  spring, 
And  envelope  us  in  the  great  forces 
That  knowledge  of  nature  will  bring. 

Revealing  to  us  all  the  splendor 

Of  Earth  and  the  heavenly  spheres, 

And  the  soul,  on  the  wings  of  the  morning, 

Carries  peace  and  love  through  the  years. 

Oh,  Pilgrim  on  the  threshold ! 
Grasp  the  great  truth  which  before  you  lies, 
And  your  life  will  discourse  sweet  music 
Of  the  angels  beyond  the  skies ! 

"The  Secret  of  life  is  Love,—" 
Is  engraven  on  Karnac's  walls. 
"Love  is  the  secret  of  life.—" 
The  sphynxes  of  Egypt  calls. 

"Love  with  Wisdom,  is  the  secret  of  Life," 
At  the  doorway  of  Petraea  inscribed 
The  torch  of  love  for  humanity  burns 
'Tis  the  secret  of  the  soul. 


From  Taj- Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  15 


Love  for  the  Great  Master 

Let  us  fill  our  hearts  to  the  brim, 

Then  knowledge  and  wisdom  and  power 

Will  come  to  us  from  within! 

Peace,     Peace  to  the  soul  is  our  watchword! 
Let  us  breathe  to  the  world  a  prayer! 
In  silence  send  out  the  glad  message 
To  struggling  humanity  there! 

That  all  may  withdraw  the  curtain, 
And  see  the  wondrous  light 
From  darkness  of  ages  of  ignorance, 
Pass  out  of  the  shadows  of  night. 

Set  sail  on  the  murmuring  river, 
Gently  rippling  out  to  the  sea; 
Flowing  onward  and  onward  and  onward, 
To  the  glorious  Eternity! 


ARIES. 

Like  a  pure  stately  lily 
That  sleeps  in  the  earth, 
Let  your  nature  shine  forth, 
Ruled  by  Aries  at  birth. 


16  From  Taj-Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


INSPIRATION. 

I  am  standing  on  the  threshold 
In  the  opalescent  light, 
Listening  to  the  angel  voices 
Calling  me  from  out  the  night. 

Will  they  lead  me  o'er  the  border, 
Fold  me  in  their  snowy  wings; 
Lead  rny  soul  to  higher  knowledge 
Of  unutterable  things? 

Will  I  reach  my  heart's  desire, 
Now  to  tread  the  starry  way 
To  the  footstool  of  our  Maker, 
In  the  blaze  of  heavenly  day? 

Then  to  earth  plane  once  more  roaming 
With  the  forces  from  the  spheres, 
Just  to  help  the  weak  and  weary 
On  the  road  of  toiling  years. 

Just  a  moment  by  the  wayside, 
Just  a  touch  upon  the  cheek, 
Just  a  little  of  God's  brightness, 
Helping  those  amongst  the  weak. 

Will  the  forces  of  the  God-head 
Make  a  messenger  of  me, 
To  enlighten  all  desirous 
Of  the  great  Eternity? 

Then  when  my  task  here  is  finished, 
Loosened  all  the  ties  that  bind, 
That  my  soul  may  seek  its  Maker, 
In  the  realms  of  the  Divine. 


From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  17 


Such  a  life  I  freely  offer. 
To  the  forces  from  on  high. 
Might  I  be  an  humble  bearer 
Of  the  message  from  the  sky. 

Then  when  earth-plane's  work  is  ended, 
May  my  spirit  find  the  rest, 
In  the  bosom  of  the  God-head, 
Peace  and  Love  forever  blest. 


TO  OUR  SUSAN 

Who  is  she,  with  eyes  so  blue, 
And  with  hair  of  sunny  hue, 
With  a  smile  of  welcome,  too? 
It  is  Susan. 

She  is  young  and  she  is  fair, 
With  a  mien  so  debonnaire; 
She  is  one  beyond  compare, 
Is  this  Susan. 

When  we  are  so  far  from  home, 
Coming  o'er  the  world  to  roam, 
Who  then  greets  us  with  a  smile? 
It  is  Susan. 

She  our  hand  in  friendship  holds, 
And  our  heart  to  her  unfolds 
All  the  love  that  in  them  is, 
For  our  Susan. 

Fairies  weave  her  joys  and  powers, 
Brighten  all  her  golden  hours ; 
May  her  path  be  strewn  with  flowers — 
Our  loved  Susan. 


18  From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


HARMONY. 

As  it  is  above,  so  below, 

Let  harmony  prevail; 

Know  the  starry  orbs  as  they  circling  go. 

And  thy  luck  will  never  fail. 

But  if  the  Law  you  try  to  balk, 
And  discord  does  obtain, 
Then  all  the  force  of  random  talk 
Will  ne'er  bring  peace  again. 

Breathed  into  life  by  the  world's  great  breath 

Thee  and  the  Universe 

Pulsing  with  flow  of  life  and  death, 

Alike  planets  and  souls  of  earth. 

For  Unity  must  prevail  through  all, 
And  harmony  must  reign; 
Then  we  can  master  struggle  and  strife 
And  our  rightful  heritage  gain. 

We  can  help  the  younger  souls  along 
In  this  world  so  beautifully  fair, 
And  all  our  hearts  be  filled  with  song 
With  never  a  sorrow  or  care. 

Love  our  motto,  a  star  on  our  shield 

We  can  reach  the  uppermost  heights 

And  journey  along  shedding  peace  with  our 

song 
Till  the  soul  takes  its  rapturous  flight. 


From  Taj-Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  19 


THE    MESSAGE. 

'Tis  the  silent  hour  of  evening 
When  all  cares  are  laid  aside 
And  we  linger  in  the  moonlight, 
Near  the  beach  at  ebb  of  tide. 

And  the  waves  like  murmuring  voices 
Dashing  gaily  on  their  way, 
And  the  moonbeams  fall  and  sparkle 
On  the  scintillating  spray. 

See  the  stars  come  out  in  numbers, 
Just  to  watch  the  waves  at  play, 
And  to  listen  to  the  music, 
As  they  sing  old  ocean's  lay. 

Then  we  raise  our  eyes  to  heaven 
And  the  myriad  throng  is  seen 
All  are  twinkling  in  their  gladness 
Welcoming  the  evening  queen. 

And  the  ocean  madly  rushes, 
As  in  answer  to  her  call, 
All  arrayed  in  sparkling  jewels, 
As  the  shades  of  night  do  fall. 

Do  we  understand  the  message, 
On  the  crest  of  waves  'tis  sent, 
And  'tis  written  in  jeweled  pictures 
In  the   starry  firmament. 

Does  it  cause  a  chord  to  vibrate 
In  the  recess  of  our  breast, 
Bringing  forth  in  sacred  music 
All  our  soul's  great  tenderness? 


20  From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


Let  us  gently  lift  the  curtain 

Of  the  soul  and  silent  pray, 

Ask  for  knowledge  and  for  wisdom 

That  will  shed  light  on  our  way. 

In  the  depth  of  nature's  storehouse 
There   are   mines   of   wealth   untold, 
Waiting  only  for  the  asking 
All  their  treasures  to  unfold. 

Let  us  rend  the  veil  asunder 
That  makes  blind  our  mortal  eyes; 
Give  the  soul  a  chance  for  freedom 
Then  'twill  soar  beyond  the  skies! 

Then  with  love  and  understanding, 
Gentleness  for  all  around, 
And  the  Christus  in  each  nature 
Full  of  harmonies  be  found. 

Then  an  ecstacy  will  hover 
And  this  life  be  filled  with  peace, 
Till  the  call  from  the  great  Master, 
Causes  all  earth-life  to  cease. 

As  we  wander  by  the  waters, 
In  the  moonbeams'  silver  light, 
Let  me  send  to  you  the  message, 
Brought  to  me  from  out  the  night. 

Open  up  your  soul  to  knowledge; 
Turn  the  key,  unlock  the  door ; 
For  within   the   inner   portals 
Love  waits,  like  a  bird  to  soar. 

Send  this  love  to  all  humanity, 
Enemies  as  well  as  friends, 
Unknown  souls  who   seem   forsaken, 
All  God's  children—He  defends. 


From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  21 


Then  as  breaks  the  evening  shadows, 
And  the  dawn  of  day  appears, 
All  the  love  sent  forth  in  silence, 
Will  return  with  force  of  years. 

Only  then  our  hearts  rejoicing, 

As  each  golden  day  comes  round, 

And  the  Peace  which  passeth  knowledge, 

Hovering  in  our  breasts,  be  found. 


THE  RIVULET. 


Prancing,  dancing,  rushing  waters 
Carrying  echoes  from  the  hills 
Laughing  in  the  lights  and  shadows 
Over  pebbles,  rippling  rills, 
All  melodious  sighing,  singing 
Under  branches  golden  tipped 
And  the  nodding  flowers  listen 
To  the  spray  so  silver  lipped. 
All  the  burdens  of  life  vanish 
As  we  hear  the  waters'  song 
Telling  of  the  Law  eternal, 
As  they  merrily  dance  along. 


22  From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


THE    MUSIC    OF    THE    NIGHT. 

When  the  day  is  slowly  dying, 

And  the  sun  dips  in  the  west, 

And  the  murmuring  winds  are  sighing, 

Stirring  with  a  great  unrest. 

Then  the  birds  and  tree-tops  chorus, 
With  the  purling  of  the  stream, 
Whispering  the  old,  old  story, 
Shadows  of  a  by-gone  dream. 

Is  this  song,  as  twilight  darkens, 
Deep  into  the  shades  of  night, 
Music  sent  from  Angels'  harping, 
Love  songs  to  the  stars  so  bright. 

Then  beneath  the  vaulted  heaven, 
Lit  by  tiny  lamps  of  fire, 
Vespers  of  the  evening  chanted, 
Nature's  great  cathedral  choir. 

Paeans  of  memory  all  harmonious 
Dream  songs  all  in  jubilee, 
When  the  summer  winds  are  floating, 
Over  field  and  orchard  tree. 

And  the  grand  orchestral  music, 
Symphonies  of  love  unfold, 
As  the  song  in  tender  accents, 
Mingles  with  our  dreams  untold. 

And  the  zephyrs  gently  murmuring, 
Wafts  a  song  in  upward  flight, 
Of  our  souls  in  harmony  thrilling 
To  the  music  of  the  night. 


From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  23 


THE  SECRET  OF  THE  FLOWERS. 

Where  lies  the  charm  of  the  flowery  kingdom 

Is  it  the  color, 

Or  beauty  of  form? 

It  is  the  fragrance  on  soft  winds  wafted, 

As  its  dewy  cup 

It  opes  to  the  morn. 

Stately  the  sunflower  stands  in  its  glory 
Its  face  to  the  east, 
In  robes  of  pure  gold. 

Lowly  we  find  the  violet  so  fragrant 
Hidden  from  sight 
Under  the  leaves. 

Pansies,  too,  with  faces  so  trusting, 
Thoughtful  and  winsome 
In  their  modest  way. 

Red,  pink  and  purple,  the  poppies  are  nodding 
Putting  to  sleep 
The  mortals  of,  earth. 

Seek  in  the  woodland  for  sweet  baby  blue  eyes, 
Like  azure  skies 
In  the   new  morn. 

Queerer  than  all  is  the  foxglove  so  varied, 
Where  in  its  folds 
Insects  are  lulled. 

And  the  great  lily  which  blooms  in  the  night  time, 
Fearing  the  sun-rays 
On   its  white  robe. 

Tell  me  what  is  the  secret  they're  holding! 
Have  they  no  voice? 
Is  there  no  sound? 


24  From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


How  do  they  reach  us,  and  grow  so  dear  to  us? 
Surely  a  message 
Lurks  in  their  breast. 

What  is  the  subtle  charm  of  the  rose, 

Look  in  its  heart 

And  the  mystery  is  told! 

Heart  speaks  to  heart  when  we  gaze  on  its  beauty. 
Where  is  the  mystery; 
What  is  the  spell? 

Ah!  'tis  the  perfume  wafted  around  us, 
Carrying  the  message 
Of  Nature's  great  Law. 

It  is  the  soul  coming  forth  from  the  flower 

Reaching  afar, 

Like  the  rays  of  a  star. 

Sending  forth  to  the  world  in  its  voice,  silent 
Hidden  truths  of  the  life 
Evolved  every  day. 

Slowly,  but  surely  when  reaching  its  goal, 
Out  of  the  plant  life, 
Is  wafted  the  soul. 

Telling  of  mysteries  in  its  breast  hidden  deep; 
Of  earthy  struggles, 
And  deathless  sleep. 

On  breath  of  the  morning  'tis  carried  afar, 
Onward  its  journey. 
To  reach  higher  spheres. 

Then  when  the  soul  from  the  flower,  takes  it  flight, 
Leaves  fall  to  earth, 
And  petals  decay. 


From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Qate  25 


Feeding  Mother  Earth  who  has  given  it  birth, 

And  to  renew 

The  strength  it  has  taken. 

So  soul  to  soul  we  speak  to  the  flowers, 
Breathing  their  fragrance 
All  the  day  through. 

And  with  each  perfume  sent  to  our  breast, 
Each  brings  a  memory, 
Or  a  caress. 

One  of  a  bright  dashing  spirit  of  earth, 
One  of  a  sorrow, 
One  is  of  mirth. 

One  of  a  mother,  to  all  most  dear, 
One  of  a  lover 
Enshrined  in  our  heart. 

But  the  red  rose  to  our  soul  speaks  most  clear, 

For  'tis  of  love, 

The  message  she  bears. 

Love  for  the  forces  ruling  our  planet, 
Love  for  the  Power 
Strengthening  our  lives. 

Love  and  love  only,  our  souls  lifting  upward 
This  is  the  secret 
Told  by  the  flowers. 

So,  we  will  tend  them  with  gentle  care, 
Always  defend  them, 
When  vandals  are  near. 

Gaze  on  their  beauty,  inhale  their  perfume, 

Soul  speaks  to  soul 

From  the  heart  of  the  flower. 


26  From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


A  WAKING  DREAM. 

He  whispers  to  us,  in  the  breeze  and  sunshine, 
Even  the  seas  bespeak  His  mighty  power 
All  nature  stirs  with  spirit,  pulsing  onward, 
Sun,  moon  and  stars  and  every  lowly  flower. 

The  thunder  rolls;  storms  o'er  head  are  breaking; 
Builded  on  rock  the  lighthouse  stands  alone ; 
Eternal  light  of  love,  us  ne'er  forsaking, 
Though  lightning  strikes  and  mighty  winds  do  moan. 

Doubt  may  assail  the  Pilgrim  weary  hearted, 
Darkness  of  night,  may  settle  o'er  his  soul. 
Voices  within  may  lure  him  to  the  challenge 
The  fray  is  on  to  make  or  lose  the  goal. 

Listening  I  catch  the  words  of  His  revealing, 
And  in  the  stillness,  scarcely  understand, 
Yet,  try  to  sense  the  wonder  and  commotion 
Stirring  my  soul  and  beckoning  of  His  hand. 

And  as  I  wait,  athirst  for  his  inspiring. 
Having  once  had  a  glimpse  of  things  Divine 
Never  again  forget  the  great  desiring 
Of  His  sweet  presence,  in  this  heart  of  mine. 

Once  having  talked  with  Spirit,  Spirit  answering, 
Once  having  felt  the  peace  beyond  compare, 
Storms,  troubles,  doubts,  may  try  to  break  the  stillness, 
But  nevermore;  for  God  Himself  is  there. 

I  choose  to  stand  on  side  of  path  enlightened, 
Will  those  on  other  side,  pass  Him  on  the  way, 
One  chance  we  have  to  grasp  His  hand  as  Brother 
Ere  broken-hearted,  gently  glides  away. 


From  Taj-Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  27 


For  His  great  magnet  is  a  love  alluring 
Urging  us  ever  with  a  force  Divine. 
And  with  this  love  there  comes  a  great  assuring 
That  His  great  kingdom  is  forever  thine. 

In  the  clear  lake  His  Image  is  reflected 
And  His  pure  spirit,  rests  eternal  there. 
Love  and  more  love  is  evermore  provided 
Lifting  the  soul  forever  from  despair. 


A  DREAM. 

The  flame  is  the  soul  of  the  Poet, 
The  crystal,  the  wisdom  divine, 
Upraised  on  the  wings  of  the  spirit 
In  purity  and  love  sublime. 

Released  from  its  icy  prison, 
Rising  to  life  it  goes; 
A  heavenly  rainbow  of  promise, 
From  the  mystic  shrine  it  flows. 

Success  to  a  great  ambition, 
Then  peace  and  contentment  and  rest, 
At  the  footstool  of  the  Almighty, 
In  the  land  of  the  ever  blest! 


28  From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


THE  GREAT  WHITE  DOME. 

In  silence,  the  Great  White  Dome 
Rests  on  the  mountain  height 
A  link  between  heaven  and  earth, 
Giving  records  of  starry  light. 

From  the  bustle  and  rush  of  the  valley, 
Where  in  the  mad*    race  of  life, 
Humanity   struggles   unheeded 
In  the  never-ending  strife. 

Through  orchards  of  golden  fruit, 
By  vineyards  of  grapes  so  blue, 
And  fields  of  waving  grain, 
We  pass  the  mountains  through. 

And  the  sparkling  streams  go  by, 
Under  the  rocks  and  the  trees 
They  merrily  scamper  and  play 
In  the  hush  of  the  summer  breeze. 

Then,  as  evening  shades  descend, 
And  the  earth  in  sleep  is  stilled, 
We  raise  our  eyes  on  high, 
And  with  wonder  our  souls  are  filled. 

The  silver  moon  comes  out 
As  guardian  of  the  night, 
And  planets  and  stars  appear 
So  wondrous  in  our  sight. 

We  cry  out  for  the  stars 
As  they  twinkle  and  burn  in  the  sky, 
And  wish  for  the  silver  boat, 
Which  sails  in  the  heavens  so  high. 

Higher  than  winds  can  blow, 
Swifter  than  clouds  do  fly, 
Each  star  in  glory  sublime, 
Lit  to  shine  and  set  in  the  sky. 


From  Taj-Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  29 


To  us,  how  silent  they  seem, 

Yet,  perchance,  full  of  life  as  ours, 

Doing  their  Maker's  will 

And  showing  His  wondrous  powers. 

Silent  watchers  in  the  tower, 
Noting  change  with  new  delight, 
Send  the  message  to  the  people 
Sacred  mysteries  of  the  night ! 

Draw  the  thoughts  of  men  to  Heaven, 
As  the  marvels  you  unfold; 
Searching  this  vast  field  of  knowledge 
For  the  secrets  yet  untold! 

Far  away  from  sordid  pleasures, 
In  your  Dome  so  strong  and  white, 
Tracing  histories  there  foreshadowed 
Written  out  across  the  night. 

Let  us,  then,  a  moment  tarry, 
With  our  burdens  laid  aside; 
And  upon  this  wondrous  mountain, 
With  the   starry   skies   abide. 

Through  the  telescope  so  mighty, 
With  its  eye  of  glass  so  clear, 
Bring  from  high  the  many  planets 
To  us,  on  our  earthly  sphere! 

Jupiter   with   cloud  bands  surrounded, 
Saturn  with  its  rings  so  bright. 
Sirius  like  a  diamond  brilliant. 
Scintillating  in  the  night. 

Then  the  clusters  red,  green,  yellow, 
Others  of  a  sapphire  hue, 
All  are  twinkling  in  their  glory, 
As  they  pass  the  ether  through. 


30  From  Taj  -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


And  we  seek  to  know  their  stories, 
As  they  hasten  on  their  way, 
All  a  part  of  one  great  system 
Under  Universal  sway. 

As  we  ponder  on  these  mysteries 
Of  the  Consciousness  Divine, 
Shall  our  souls  take  wing  and  follow 
In  the  wake  of  worlds  sublime. 

In  the  scale  of  evolution, 

Till  we  reach  a  perfect  life 

Onward,  upward,  like  the  star  worlds 

Far  beyond  mere  human  strife. 

Tell  the  wonders,  oh,  stars  and  planets, 
To  the  world  where'er  you  roam;   . 
That  humanity   may   grow  wiser 
For  Mount  Hamilton's  Great  Dome. 


CALIFORNIA. 

California,  land  of  azure  skies, 
Where  gentle  summer  walks  in  stormless  light, 
Where  the  old  mountains  lift  their  furrowed  brows, 
Crowned  with  the  starry  diadem  of  night. 
Thy  beauteous  vales  in  Day's  arms  so  bright 
Like  fairy  worlds, — what  grandeur  stamps  the  scene 
Of  rock-urned  falls,  or  prairies  clad  in  green, 
And  far  beyond  the  hills  as  sentinels,  stand  guard 
The    stately    redwoods,    with    arms    protectingly    out 
stretched 
In  ever-verdant  green. 


From  Taj-Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  31 


IN  MEMORIAM 

Written  for  the  dedication  and  unveiling  of  a  monu 
ment  erected  to  the  name  of  Redwood  City's  generous 
pioneer,  Horace  Hawes. 

A  Pioneer  with  thoughts  beyond  his  age, 
A  soul  advanced  in  wisdom  and  in  worth, 
A  builder  of  the  race,  on  virgin  page, 
Of  unity  and  peace,  to  spring  to  birth. 

No  power,  that  wrought  for  good,  can  ever  die. 
A  law  of  nature,  manifests  and  lives 
Unwithered,  though  changing  years  may  fly, 
The  stream  of  wisdom  flows  and  ever  gives. 

Therefore,  thou  art  not  wholly  gone; 

Thy  better  part  is  living  with  us  still; 

The  laws  thou  formst,  through  politics  were  torn, 

Yet  all  thy  hopes  and  wishes  have  been  filled. 

In  struggling  city  by  the  Golden  Gate, 
Thou  layest  the  Charter  and  the  corner  stone, 
To  benefit  the  many,  and  kind  Fate 
Has  there  a  city  beautiful  enthroned. 

The  Consolidation  Act  still  stands  today 
In  golden  letters  writ  upon  the  walls, 
And  system  out  of  chaos  came  to  stay, 
And  harmony  now  fills  the  Justice  Halls. 

Thou  art  not  idle,  in  thy  higher  life; 
Thy  Spirit  blends  itself  to  other  tasks; 
To  help  the  nation  in  its  busy  strife; 
And  Peace,  the  crown,  is  all  thou  askst. 

And  may  some  ray  shine  forth  from  thy  great  Soul 
And  shed  on  struggling  hearts  a  clearer  light, 
And  Freedom,  Right  and  Unity  the  goal 
Clothing,  in  lustre  more  divine,  our  sight. 


32  From  Taj-Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


Who  says  he  is  forgot,  his  memory  dim? 
Not  so,  for  every  thought  lives  on,  a  deed, 
And  may  one  thought  be  sent  to  him, 
The  soul  who  in  the  great  beyond  is  freed. 

Today  we  raise  the  veil  of  years  gone  by, 
And  plant  a  font  of  water  in  the  sod, 
Symbol  of  overflowing  love,  that  ne'er  will  die, 
That  springs  from  love  Divine,  a  spark  of  God. 

And  weary  ones  may  quaff  at  this  pure  stream, 
Refreshing  all  who  passes  by  the  way, 
And  realize  that  life  here  is  a  dream 
But  life  eternal  is  all  shining  day. 

This  laurel  crown  I  lay  upon  the  font 
In  memory  of  a  soul  of  priceless  worth, 
Who  worked  for  Freedom,  Unity  and  Peace 
To  bring  a  brotherhood  to  men  on  earth. 


EUGENIE'S  BIRTHDAY. 

The  years  are  flying, 
Childhood  is  dying, 
The  bud  has  opened  into  the  rose. 

With  petals  concealing 
The  heart's  revealing 
The  soul  springs  to  life  in  the  full  bloom. 

A  sweet  blue-eyed  baby, 
A  modest  young  lady, 
A  true  and  pure  woman  comes  forth  today. 

With  graces  unfolded 
And  character  moulded, 
To  meet  life's  destiny  on  the  highway. 

May  years  bring  full  measure 
Of  joys  and  of  pleasure, 
And  the  rainbow  of  promise  surround  you  alway. 


From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  33 


EL  DORADO 


Old  Neptune  sings  his  songs  of  love, 
To  the  city  by  the  sea, 
And  golden  brown  rise  the  hills  above, 
To  list  to  the  minor  key. 

As  the  clouds  roll  down  to  the  silver  sands, 
Carrying  harmonies  from  the  skies, 
The  waters  sigh,  and  beckon  and  call, 
As  the  mists  from  the  breakers  fly. 

The  Golden  Gate  of  this  city  fair, 
Welcomes  the  stranger  to  rest, 
As  the  sun  drops  low  in  the  restless  sea, 
And  kisses  the  ocean's  breast. 

A  jewel  rare,  like  old  Cathay, 

Rises  out  of  the  ebb  and  flow, 

With  the  opal  tints  of  the  peerless  bay 

At  the  foot  of  our  El  Dorado. 

With  flowers  and  fruits  and  carol  of  birds, 
And  songs  from  the  waves  released, 
We  will  lure  you  back  to  our  city  of  dreams. 
From  the  ice  and  snows  of  the  East. 

A  welcome  you'll  find  to  our  sunny  clime, 
And  hearts  beating  love  for  thee, 
As  the  soft  tones  of  our  Mission  bells 
Sound  a  welcome  from  hills  and  sea. 


34  From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


A  TRIBUTE  TO  CLIO. 

Clio,  one  of  the  muses  nine, 
Who  lived  in  the  days  of  gods  divine, 
Whose  father,  Zeus,  in  his  great  might, 
Ruled  the  Mount  of  Olympus  bright. 

Mnemosyne,  the   mother,   her   daughters   taught 
How  to  bestow  the  arts  of  Greece 
On  the  favored  mortals  who  came  to  her  shrine, 
To  worship  the  muses  of  olden  time. 

Ages  before,  they  were  stars  on  high, 
And   shone  with   resplendent   light; 
Ruling  the  seasons  of  sunshine  and  dews, 
To  the  mortals  great  delight. 

Finally,  the  Greeks  called  them  down  to  earth, 
And  took  these  powers  away, 
Bestowing  others  of  greater  worth 
Recording  the  history  of  the  nation's  birth. 

And  with  verse  and  charming  symphony, 
They  bring  their  sacred  songs, 
And  waken  to  rapture  the  souls  of  men, 
And  urge  them  to  Victory's  renown. 

So  they  come  from  a  land  of  sunlight  deep, 
Where  the  golden  gardens  glow, 
Where  the  winds  of  the  north,  becalmed  in  sleep, 
Their  conch-shells  never  blow. 

Midst  temples  of  pines  on  the  moonlight  mount, 
They  silently  list  to  the  stars, 
In  the  glades  where  dwells  the  brooding  dove, 
Where  echoes  the  voice  of  love. 

They  wove  bright  fables,  in  the  days  of  old, 
When  reason  borrowed  fancy's  painted  wings, 
When  truth's  clear  river  flowed  o'er  sands  of  gold, 
And  sung  of  high  and  mystic  things. 


From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


35 


And  the  poet  who  wanders  on  mountain  top, 
And  dreams  in  the  lowly  dale, 
Is  inspired  by  them,  with  strains  divine, 
Voicing  his  thoughts  in  lines  sublime. 

And  Clio,  most  favored  of  daughters 
The  famed  muse  of  history, 
Stands  wreathed  with  the  laurel  of  honor, 
And  glory,  and  victory. 

And  in  her  hand  the  papyrus, 

With  records  of  peace  and  war, 

And  the  trumpet  to  herald  the  greatness 

Of  the  gods  on  Aegean  shore. 

Let  us  follow  this  great  inspiration 
Of  the  muse  of  the  ages  gone  by, 
Our   motto   "Petimus    Optima" 
Write  in  flaming  letters  on  high. 

Success  to  the  women  of  the  New  World, 
Let  us  vie  with  Atlanteans  of  old, 
And  reach  the  goal  of  perfection 
When  our  nation's  history  is  told. 


36  From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  BROOK 

The  brook  runs  on  so  merrily, 
Carrying  its  songs  to  the  sea; 
And  the  air  nymphs  hover  above  it 
To  hear  what  the  song  might  be. 


Listen,  listen!    said  the  brook, 
I  to  thee  a  tale  would  tell 
Of  a  love  that  ne'er  grows  old. 

Over  twenty  years  ago 

Two  young  hearts  in  rapture  met 

Met  to  love,  and  love  for  aye. 

So  they  intertwined  their  lives, 
And  with  hand  in  hand  they  trod 
Over  life's  hard,  rocky  way. 

One  would  stumble,  one  would  fall, 
But  the  other,  all  in  love, 
Helped  the  weaker  on  the  road. 

In  the  home  two  fairies  dwelt, 

One  a  girl  and  one  a  boy, 

Taking  all  the  love  from  both  to  their  hearts. 

Such  a  love  as  children  bring, 
Softening  sorrow  into  spring, 
Like  a  rainbow  doth  appear  in  the  sky. 

With  these  fairies  by  their  side, 

Onward  through  the  world  so  wide, 

These  two  lovers  took  their  way  by  the  brook. 


From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  37 


And,  as  years  crept  on  apace, 

Many  a  struggle  in  the  race 

Overcame  they,  by  the  grace  of  their  love. 

And  that  love  did  stronger  grow 

Till  an  angel's  hand  has  joined 

All  the  life  strands  into  one  perfect  rhythm. 

Now  the  cord  has  turned  to  gold, 

And  their  natures  do  unfold 

To  prepare  for  future  use  in  the  world. 

May  the  chain  with  jewels  be  decked; 

Pearls  of  kindness,  wisdom,  love, 

In  a  necklace  bright  as  stars  from  above. 

Hand  in  hand  they  still  go  on, 
Like  the  babbling  of  the  brook, 
In  a  ceaseless  tale  of  joy,  ever  told. 

And  when  old  age  lingers  near 

Each  shall  be  to  each  more  dear, 

Never  a  sigh  or  never  a  fear — all  is  love." 


Listen,  listen!    said  the  brook, 
What  is  this  the  air  nymphs  say? 
That  there  is  no  separation  of  true  souls? 

True  love  moulds  two  souls  in  one, 
Blends  them  in  one  perfect  life, 
And  in  bliss  they  travel  on 
To  the  shores  of  Paradise." 

And  the  brook  in  joy  runs  on, 
Carrying  love  songs  on  her  breast 
To  the  Ocean  far  and  wide, 
To  eternity  and  rest. 


38  From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


THE  SUN-CHILD 

What  are  you  seeking 

Child  of  the  sun, 

Chasing  a  butterfly  from  morn  till  night, 
First  in  the  shadow  and  then  in  the  light? 

Restless  and  weary, 

Child  of  the  light, 

A  phantom  pursuing  all  through  this  life, 
Ever  eluding,  in  the  world's  busy  strife. 

Life  is  a  bubble 

Of  variable  hue, 

Pictured  with  all  the  tints  of  the  sun, 
A  mirage,  e'er  receding,  'till  life  is  done. 

The  planet  which  guards  you 

As  onward  you  rove, 

Has  showered  the  gladness  and  joy  of  his  love 
O'er  thy  bosom — there  sheltered  like  a  white  dove. 

And  wherever  you  go, 

At  home  or  abroad, 

Like  a  rainbow  of  promise,  your  presence  will  send 
A  joy  and  a  peace  to  the  heart  of  a  friend. 

Alone  thou  art  standing, 

In  radiance  golden! 

Like  the  sun,  ever  ready  to  warm  and  to  cheer 
All  thy  friends,  be  they  far,  be  they  near. 

What  is  the  name 

Of  this  phantom  you're  seeking, 
This  ray  of  the  sunlight  under  the  leaves, 
In  flower  and  fruit  of  the  orchard  trees? 

This  sprite  of  the  sunshine, 

Imprisoned  in  nature, 
Waits  but  the  touch  of  a  kindred  hand 
To  spring  into  life  and  cover  the  land. 


From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  39 


So  chase  in  the  sunlight 

The  butterflies  rare; 

Sip  of  the  honey  the  bright  blossoms  bear ; 
Guard  it  and  store  it  for  others  to  share ! 

His  name — it  is  Love 

This  child  of  the  sun 
Ever  attracting  and  ever  eluding, 
While  all  the  wide  world  is  ever  pursuing. 


WEDDING  BELLS 
Eugenie  and  David 

Eugenie !    What  sweet  portent  haply  lies 

Under  her  name,  to  spell  this  wee  bride's  worth; 

Granted  to  me  by  gracious,  smiling  skies, 

Eugenie  truly  seems  "of  lofty  birth." 

Noble  in  birth,  I've  taught  my  "Babe"  to  prize 

In  life  and  deeds  the  virtue  of  that  name. 

Eu,  the  Greek  for  "good"  while  "Genii"  are  all-wise, 

E'er  to  be  good  and  wise  has  been  her  aim. 

'Tis  meet  that  he  to  whom  Eugenie's  wed 
David,  should  be  "One  blest  by  love's  own  eyes." 
And  she  upon  his  soul  great  love  will  shed; 
Valiant,  he'll  guard  her  as  they  onward  go 
Into  new  life,  and  count  its  every  guise 
Divine,  bring  what  it  may  of  weal  or  woe. 

And  this  fond  prayer  I  offer  up  for  thee : 

Thy  names  an  omen  of  thy  life  may  be. 

Mother. 


40  From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 

PROGRESS 
Written  for  a  Suffrage  Meeting. 

The  onward  march  of  evolution, 
The  ever-changing  life, 
Is  nearing  its  great  solution, 
In  the  present  civic  strife. 

Ideals  old  change  into  new; 

Higher  and  higher  they  grow ; 

Old  ways,  and  thoughts,  are  left  to  the  few, 

While  new  ones,  the  present,  will  sow. 

Not   a  fight,   nor  a   strife,  this  call  for  advance, 
As  old  methods  slip  from  the  scene, 
But  the  modern  civilized  game  of  chance, 
Making  all  nations    active    and    keen. 

Common  interests    and    common    ideals, 
Joining    man    and    woman    at    last — 
Tenderness,    sympathy,    comradeship    seals 
The  bond — discrimination  is  past. 

The  need  is  good-fellowship,  consolidation, 

Join  hand  and  heart  and  soul, 

For  the  home,  for  the  state,  and  our  glorious  nation, 

The  welfare  of  the  race  as  a  whole. 

It  was  physical  strength  that  won  the  race 
In  primitive  days  gone  by. 
Intuition  and  reason  must  now  march  apace 
On  great  minds  the  nations  rely. 

Man  and  woman  at  last  have  reached  the  goal, 
And  their  banner  will  float  on  high, 
For  the  uplift  of  each  passing  soul, 
As  the  world  goes  hurrying  by. 


From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  41 


Unfurl  the  flag  of  co-ordination! 
We  will  follow  this  standard  through  life, 
As  the  daughters  and  sons,  in  closer  relation, 
March  side  by  side  in  the  strife. 

When  once  the  waves  of  progress  release 

The  masses  rushing  along, 

Then  all  political  life  will  cease 

And  make  new  conditions  more  strong. 

So  seek  at  the  root  of  the  suffrage  decree ; 
The  solution  will  be  found- 
It  is  love,  fellowship  and  comraderie 
In  a  wreath  of  victory  bound. 


TO  MY  SWEETHEART. 

For  twenty  years  and  two  years  more 
We've  sailed  our  boat  o'er  seas  together; 
Though  earth  did  quake  and  thunder  break, 
We've  reached  the  shore  in  sunny  weather. 
And  now  we  glide  o'er  summer  tide, 
Two  souls  whose  love  grows  on  forever, 
As  hand  in  hand  we  tread  the  sand, 
And  naught  on  earth  or  heaven  can  sever. 
God  bless  the  day  which  gave  thee  birth ; 
Bless,  too,  the  Fates  who  joined  our  hands, 
And  may  the  many  years  bring  forth 
A  peace  eternal  on  life's  sands. 


42  From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


IN  THE  GLOAMING 

Do  you  hear  the  songs  at  twilight, 
When  the  day  is  done, 
And  the  shadows  of  the  evening 
Chase  the  setting  sun? 

Then  the  crickets  are  a-chirping, 
Croaking  are  the  frogs, 
Keeping  up  a  merry  chorus, 
Jumping  o'er  the  logs. 

Through  the  rustle  of  the  tree  tops, 
As  the  leaves  are  stirred, 
And  a  minor  note  of  music 
In  the  choir  is  heard. 

Hark!  the  owl  in  plaintive  measure, 
Calling  to  her  mate, 
And  the  answer  in  the  distance, 
As  the  hour  grows  late. 

Then  the  moon,  in  stately  splendor, 
Rises  o'er  the  hill, 
And  the  stars  come  out  in  numbers, 
Till  the  heavens  fill. 

Over  nature  night  is  creeping, 

As  the  hours  go  by, 

And  the  grass  and  flowers  are  sleeping 

With  a  lingering  sigh. 

One  by  one,  within  the  cottage, 
Lights  do  disappear, 
And  the  farmers  of  the  valley 
Sleep  without  a  fear. 

Then  we  hear  in  dreams  a  murmur 
As  a  myriad  throng, 
Nymphs  and  fairies  are  a-stirring 
In  the  dance  and  song. 


From  Taj-Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  43 


Underneath  the  stars'  bright  glimmer, 
Gathered  on  the  lawn, 
Singing  merrily  in  the  moonlight, 
Where  they  dance  till  dawn. 

Into  windows  they  fly  noiseless, 
Where  the  children  sleep, 
Whispering  the  wondrous  stories 
Of  the  caverns  deep. 

Of  the  ocean,  filled  with  mermaids 
Decked  in  coral  rare, 
Luring  ships  on  to  destruction, 
Filled  with  mortals  fair. 

Then  they  tell  the  tales  of  castles 
On  the  mountains  high, 
Where  the  giants,  strong  and  cruel, 
Make  boys  into  pie. 

And  the  magic  wand  of  fairies, 
Turning  all  to  gold; 
And  the  coffers  without  number, 
Filled  with  wealth  untold. 

Fireflies  and  Jack-o'-lanterns 
Linger  in  these  dales, 
And  the  phosphorescent  glow-worm 
Lights  the  mystic  vales. 

And  there  is  an  elfin  palace, 

All  of  sugar  made, 

Where  good  children  come  and  visit, 

Who  are  not  afraid. 

There's  a  great  book  always  open, 
Where  you  write  the  name 
Of  the  good  boys  and  the  good  girls 
Who  to  the  palace  came. 


From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


Then  the  moon  sails  on  her  voyage 
Far  beyond  the  seas, 
And  the  little  stars  grow  dimmer; 
Hushed  the  evening  breeze. 

For  the  dawn  begins  to  brighten 
And  the  world  awakes; 
Fairies  scamper  to  their  dwellings 
As  the  morning  breaks. 

All  the  earth  wakes  from  its  slumbers 
As  Old  Sol  appears, 
Dwarfs  and  fairies  not  forgotten 
Through  the  course  of  years. 

Do  say  you  believe  in  fairies, 
For  their  tales  are  true, 
For  they  make  us  all  the  happier; 
Do  say,  Yes,  you  do. 

So  we  linger  in  the  gloaming, 
Telling  tales  of  days  gone  by; 
Listening  to  the  evening's  music, 
Seeing  pictures  in  the  sky. 

Then  sweet  symphonies  come  stealing, 
Nature's  secrets  to  unfold; 
Lulled  to  rest  in  twilight  murmurs, 
Wordless  calm  comes  o'er  the  soul. 


From  Taj-Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  45 

LINES  TO  A  FRIEND 
On  Her  Seventieth  Birthday 

Three  score  and  ten  years  ago, 
A  child  in  a  cradle  lay  sweetly  sleeping. 
In  far  away  Russia's  ice  and  snow, 
The  little  stars  their  vigil  keeping. 

The  child  into  a  maid  did  grow. 

In  foreign  lands,  where  the  world  was  waking, 

And  Destiny  greatest  gifts  bestowed, 

In  the  West,  where  ocean  waves  were  breaking. 

Then  love  came  to  this  maiden  fair, 

With  sunshine,  and  cloud,  and  changeable  weather. 

And  angels  gave  children  into  her  care 

To  fill  her  life  with  love  and  pleasure. 

The  stream  that  flows  by  hill  and  lea, 

That  seeks  its  way  from  distant  fountain, 

Sooner  or  later  must  reach  the  sea, 

Though  wide  the  plain  and  steep  the  mountain. 

If  flowers  bloomed  always  we'd  cast  them  by; 
Did  youth  last  ever  'twould  lose  its  sweetness. 
The  gayest  laughter  succeeds  the  sigh; 
'Tis  change  that  makes  the  world's  completeness. 

The  blossoming  spring,  with  its  softer  wings, 
Gives  place  to  gales  that  shake  the  forest; 
The  changeful  future  its  solace  brings 
To  the  wounded  heart  that  has  ached  the  sorest 

Let  us  gather  the  harvest  of  riper  years, 
As  life  goes  on  with  its  lights  and  shadows; 
And  make  a  garland  of  smiles  and  tears, 
Like  a  daisy  chain  from  the  dewy  meadows. 


46  From  Taj  -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


And  twine  it  around  the  Mother  so  dear, 
Whose  heart  is  as  young  as  a  lark  in  the  heather, 
Crowned  with  the  love  of  her  children  here, 
Who  guard  her  from  all  the  storms  of  the  weather. 

Like  the  Pleiades  bright,  seven  children  of  night, 
A  necklace  of  gems  in  the  firmament  shining, — 
Sons  and  daughters  fair,  seven  jewels  of  light, 
A  brilliant  coronet  the  dear  head  crowning. 

Though  years  may  come  and  years  may  go 
True  hearts,   Time,   can  never  sever. 
And  we  will  all  our  gifts  bestow, 
For  mother's  heart  beats  love  forever. 


CONSTANCE 

Constance,  do  we  need  proclaim 
The  charm  and  music  of  her  name? 
So  bright,  so  chic,  so  debonnaire, 
With  grace  of  form  and  face  so  fair. 

Violet,  in  tender  mood  we  call 

This  loved  one.    May  naught  befall 

But  joy  and  peace  and  blessings  great, 

To  greet  the  turning  of  each  five  years'  fete. 


From  Taj-Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  47 


MY  LADY  IN  BLUE 

A  casket  of  jewels  I  found  by  the  sea, 
Where  the  billowy  waves  run  high; 
Where  the  waters  dash  and  the  breakers  crash 
On  the  rocks  as  they  hurry  by. 

On  the  sands  so  white,  in  the  golden  light 
Of  the  sun,  I  found  the  prize; 
In  a  garden  fair  it  nestled  there, 
Hidden  from  prying  eyes. 

And  the  children's  voices  rise  and  fall 
In  play  so  joyous  and  free; 
And  the  summer  winds  take  up  the  call 
And  carry  their  songs  to  the   sea. 

The   ocean's  restless  ebb  and  flow 
On  the   sparkling   silver   sands, 
Is  lulling  to  rest  the  Buddha 
Surrounded  by  azure  bands. 

And  within  the  sacred  silence, 

Where  a  golden  shadow  lies, 

The  Master  stands  with  upraised  hands, 

With  love  beaming  forth  from  His  eyes. 

His  blessing  and  benediction, 
Over  the   rising   tide, 
Is  borne  on  the  breast  of  the  ocean 
To  humanity,  far  and  wide. 

And  within  this  casket  of  jewels 
I  found  one  of  radiant  hue, 
Fairer  than  pearls  from  the  sea- 
The  soul  of  my  lady  in  blue. 


48  From  Taj- Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


As   sunlight   pierces   the   darkness, 
And  moonrays  silver  the  sands, 
Her  thoughts  go  forth  on  their  mission 
Of  joy  and  peace  o'er  the  lands. 

Like  pearls  in  the  depths  of  the  ocean, 
And   sapphires   hidden   from  view, 
So  wisdom  and  knowledge  and  power 
Must  be  gained  by  the  toil  of  the  few. 

Till  the  world  awakes   from  its  dreaming, 
And  Truth,  like  a  beacon  of  light, 
Leads  the  souls,  shipwrecked  and  weary, 
Out  of  the  shadows  of  night. 

In  the  golden  glow  of  the  morning, 
As  it  settles  on  mountain  and  sea, 
The  souls  reborn  in  the  dawning 
Will  awake  unfettered  and  free. 


A  SEQUEL  TO  MY  LADY  IN  BLUE 

We  wandered  in  gardens  of  wondrous  hue 
By  the  pearly  light  of  the  moon, 

Or  in  sunshine  by  the  purling  brook 
With  rapturous  souls  in  tune. 

We  were  lovers  true,  in  the  Eons  past, 
And  peace  was  within  our  breast, 

But  to  reach  the  goal  of  a  mighty  soul 
We  were  put  through  a  spiritual  test. 


From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  49 


We  were  free  as  the  birds  in  the  forest  glade, 

And  life  was  a  rosy  dream, 
With  love  so  pure,  that  an  angel  smiled 

From  her  eyes,  when  on  me  they  beamed. 

We  forgot,  in  our  earthly  paradise, 

That  our  mission  was  love  for  all, 
And  in  selfish  happiness  quaffed  of  the  cup 

That  caused  the  angels  to  fall. 

We  rested  'neath  the  silvery  stars, 

But  wafted  on  evening's  wings 
Was  the  breath  of  the  deadly  pomegranate  buds, 

Which  sleep  to  our  senses  brings. 

Then  fire  and  fever  ran  in  our  veins, 

We  steeped  our  souls  to  the  brim, 
And  lost  all  thought  of  a  life  Divine 

In  the  sense  of  original  sin. 

In  darkness  we've  wandered  many  a  day, 

Two  souls  ever  seeking  a  mate ; 
And  under  the  seeming  of  pleasure  and  pain, 

We  have  had  to  abide  our  fate. 

Till  the  still,  small  voice  at  last  was  heard 

And  love  universal  reigns, 
Work  for  the  Master  is  found  the  goal, 

And  the  souls  have  been  purged  from  stains. 

At  last  we  met,  and  the  joy  was  great, 

Our  wanderings  over  for  aye, 
And  a  peon  of  bells  rings  in  our  hearts 

To  replace  a  tear  or  a  sigh. 

Soul  flies  to  soul  in  the  silence  of  night, 

Returning,  awakes  in  the  dawn; 
And  the  great  unrest  which  filled  each  breast. 

With  the  Light  Eternal,  has  gone. 


50  From  Taj-Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


In  patience  still,  they  must  work  and  wait 

Till  the  dawn  of  another  day, 
When  all  half  souls  will  meet  their  mate 

In  the  gold  of  the  Master's  ray. 

Peace  and  harmony  will  reign  supreme; 

Angelic  hosts  will  rejoice, 
As  both  on  the  path  hear  the  Master's  call 

Through  the  calm  of  the  Inner  Voice. 


A  BIRTHDAY  BONNET 

There  came  to  a  mother 
One  summer  day, 
A  little  wee  fairy, 
Lovely  as  May. 

Her  eyes  were  like  violets, 
Her  hair  of  spun  gold, 
Her  sweet  rosebud  mouth 
Like  a  blossom  unfold. 

Such  a  sweet  lassie 
She  has  grown  in  these  years, 
When  in  her  white  bonnet 
My  fairy  appears. 


From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  51 


SPRING 

Oh,  sunny  days  of  gentle  spring, 

When  nature  her  beauty  discloses; 

The  soul  of  man  awakes  in  tune 

With  the  breath  of  the  meadows  and  roses. 

The  languorous  nights  with  starry  eyes, 
And  moonlight  in  silent  splendor ; 
The  days  grow  long  with  the  breath  of  song, 
Murmuring  of  love  so  tender. 

All  nature,  enraptured  by  the  spell, 
Looks  love  through  the  sunny  hours, 
And  fairies,  lurking  in  grove  and  dell, 
Breathe  love  to  the  nodding  flowers. 

The  long  hushed  heart  with  harmonies  fill, 
And  love  in  the  soul  is  awaking, 
As  the  sweet  spring  days  and  nights  return, 
And  memories  into  life  are  breaking. 

Blessings  are  filling  the  scented  air ; 
From  birds  in  the  soughing  trees 
Rapturous  caresses  float  everywhere, 
On  the  wings  of  the  trembling  breeze. 

The  favored  child  of  the  bright  springtime 
Brings  harmonies  from  above, 
Like  melodies  from  a  lute  in  tune, 
Comes  laden  with  sunshine  and  love. 


52  From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


ALASKA 

An  Eden  of  old  enchants  the  pilgrim's  view, 

As  o'er  the  waters  our  bark  Spokane  glides  through. 

On  either  side,  like  sullen  phantoms  rise 

Thy  granite  domes,  cloud-capped,  to  sapphire  skies. 

Alaska,  thou  gem !  Thy  mountains  gray 
Were  cleft  by  Earthquake,  Sculptor  of  the  North ; 
And  down  thy  sides,  through  gorges  deep, 
Rush  foaming  torrents,  to  eternal  sleep ! 

Thy  high  cascades  sing  ceaseless  melodies, 
And  silver  moon-rays  fall  on  dashing  spray, 
Knitting  a  veil  of  shimmering  vapor  bright 
To  deck  the  Arctic  bride  in  robes  of  light. 

Thy  groves  of  fir,  like  mummied  pilgrims  rise, 
With  arms  outstretched,  entreating,  to  the  skies, 
And  at  their  feet  the  waters  rush  along, 
Carrying  the  legends  in  their  murmuring  song. 

In  waters  clear,  the  Seraph  lurking  near, 
Will  pencil  rocks  and  trees,  and  cloudy  skies; 
Deguerrotyped,  he  leaves  a  picture  there 
Of  Nature's  radiant  face,  the  landscape  fair. 

From  canyons  gloomy  depths,  with  icy  breath, 
Of  rock-bound  glaciers,  holding  all  in  death ; 
Thunders  re-echo  from  the  mountain  side, 
As  sliding  icebergs  fall  in  ebbing  tide. 

Through  quiet  waters,  where  the  fishes  leap, 

And  forest  monarchs  silent  vigil  keep, 

Through  Rudyeard  Fiord,  where  evening  shadows  fall, 

As  twilight  glances  off  the  rocky  wall, 


From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  «  S3 


And  snow-clad  mountains  lift  their  furrowed  brows, 
Guarding  the  vales  where  roam  the  bear  and  deer, 
And  over  all  a  mist  of  golden  light 
The  midnight  sun  illumes  the  darkest  night. 

Here,  once,  the  war-whoop  rang,  through  forest  wild, 
And  warrior  brave  fought  brave  in  savage  strife, 
And  dusky  maidens  ranged  the  mossy  glades, 
Weaving  their  baskets  in  the  forest  shade. 

And  in  a  dream  we  linger  in  the  past, 
And  read  in  totem-pole  their  legends  old; 
And  silence  reigns  in  gardens  all  forlorn, 
And  homes  deserted — all  are  dead  and  gon.e. 

The  Great  Spirit  of  the  mountains  sleeps, 
And  waters  lull  the  savage  souls  to  rest; 
Yet  all  in  unity  some  day  will  meet 
In  the  Great  Beyond,  realm  of  eternal  rest. 


54  From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 

CALIFORNIA'S  CALL 
Poppy-Land 

Poppies  are  nodding  far  out  in  the  West, 

Under  the  sapphire  sky; 
I'm  sending  a  few  to  one  I  love  best, 

Where  the  winter  snows  do  lie. 

Look  in  the  cup  of  this  sun-kissed  flower 

You'll  find  a  drop  of  dew, 
Rainbow  tinted   with  pearly  lights, 

Carrying  my  love  to  you. 

Why  do  you  tarry  in  wintry  clime, 
With  the  frost  and  sleet  and  snow? 

Come  back,  come  back  to  the  poppy-land, 
Where  the  fields  are  all  aglow. 

The  hills  are  green,  and  the  silver  sheen 

Of  the  moon  illumes  the  sky; 
And  the  brook's  glad  song  as  it  hurries  along, 

Joins  the  carol  of  birds  on  high. 

You  can  tarry  a  while  by  the  sands  of  the  sea, 

Old  ocean  will  lull  you  to  rest; 
The  towering  trees  with  their  sheltering  leaves 

Will  make  you  a  welcome  guest. 

Our  hearts  are  warm  in  the  poppy-land 

The  sun  shines  bright  every  day; 
And  music  and  love  go  hand  in  hand, 

So  why,  dear  one,  delay? 

'Tis  Christmas  time,  and  we  send  you  cheer, 

And  a  golden  thought  takes  wing, 
As  the  fairy  flowers  with  messages  dear, 

Their  golden  bells  do  ring. 

Ring  out  the  chime  of  this  golden  clime, 
Sending  peace  and  good  wishes  to  all! 

Our  hearts  will  beat  in  rhythmic  time 
At  the  sound  of  the  poppy's  call. 


From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  55 


THE  MINUET 

There's  a  legend  of  the  Yuletide,  coming  down  from  days 

of  yore, 
That  is  told  around  the  fireside,  when  the  shadows  fleck 

the  floor; 

When  the  silence  of  the  twilight  steals  upon  us  unaware 
And  the  mistletoe  above  us  swings  so  softly  in  the  air. 

Then,  'tis  said,  departed  spirits  can  return  to  earth  again, 
When  the  house  is  decked  with  holly,  and  the  joys  of 

Christmas  reign; 
And  the  nearness  of  their  presence  can  be  felt  by  one 

and  all, 
When  the  Yule-log  burns  the  brightest,  casting  shadows 

on  the  wall. 

In  the  corner  of  the  parlor,  hidden  almost  out  of  sight, 
Is  a  spinnet,  long  forgotten,  scarcely  seen  in  the  dim  light ; 
On  its  sides  are  pictures  painted,  of  lords  and  ladies  fair, 
Underneath   the   spreading   branches,   walking,   talking, 
pair  by  pair. 

And  I  touched  it  very  gently,  with  almost  a  ghostly  sense, 
And  the  yellow  keys  responded  in  a  melody  intense. 
Suddenly  I  heard  a  murmur,  trembling  gently  in  the  air, 
And  the  tones  were  soft  and  mellow,  breathing  forth  a 
harmony  rare. 

Then,  emerging  from  the  shadows,  stood  a  lady  wondrous 
fair, 

Dressed  in  shimmering  'broidered  satin,  with  the  powder 
on  her  hair; 

Then  she  curtsied  gaily  to  me,  standing  by  a  high- 
backed  chair, 

Waiting  in  the  ghostly  twilight,  with  a  mien  so  debon- 
naire. 


56  From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gats 


And  she  seemed  to  wait  and  listen,  till  a  courtier  glided  by, 
And  he  took  her  hand  and  kissed  it,  where  the  mistletoe 

hung  high; 

Then  I  heard  the  satins  rustle  and  high  heels  tap  the  floor, 
In  the  firelight  jewels  glittered  as  in  courtly  days  of  yore. 

To  the  music,  all-entrancing,  back  and  forth  with  dainty 

step, 

Laughing,  dancing  to  the  measure  of  the  stately  minuet; 
I  could  almost  hear  their  voices,  and  from  eyes  a  love- 

ngnt  beamed, 
As  the  flickering  fire  faded,  and  the  shadows  dimmer 

seemed. 

And,  as  I  sit  and  ponder,  watching  pictures  shifting  fast, 
Of  the  stately  court  of  Louis,  waking  memories  of  the 

past, 
Of  Versailles,  the  palace  royal,  where  great  lords  and 

ladies  fair 
Made  the  joyous  hour  fly  in  high  revelry  held  there, 

And  the  flowers,  fruits  and  trees  nodded  in  the  evening 

light, 
Hundreds  of  sparkling  fountains  played,  whispering  love 

by  day  and  night, 
Down  the  marble  walks  came  courtiers,  gracious  and  with 

love-lit  faces, 
And  in  the  dancing  moonlight,  ladies,  dainty  in  satins  and 

laces. 

Within  the  palace  golden,  high  revelry  holds  sway, 
And,  mirrored  in  polished  floor,  the  crystal  lights  do  play. 
'Midst  music,  wit  and  song,  and  faces  all  aglow, 
The  stately  couples  dance,  to  strains  so  measured  and 
slow. 


From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  57 


The  courtier  takes  the  hand  of  his  lady  so  debonnaire, 
The  lights  grow  dim  in  the  dawn,  as  he  guides  her  to  a 

golden  chair. 
His  lady  of  powder  and  patches  waits  for    a    lingering 

glance, 
As  the  music  grows  softer  and  slower  in  the  rhythm  of 

the  dance. 

The  courtier  bows  low  to  his  lady,  and  in  the  flickering 

light 
They  seem  to  fade  like  a  phantom,  and  I  hear  them  say, 

"Good  night." 
Will  I  see  again  this  vision  when  I  play  on  the  spinnet 

old? 
Will  they  come  again  in  the  gloaming,  when  the  minuet's 

legend  is  told? 

When  again  we  deck  with  holly  the  rafters  and  lights  in 

the  hall, 
On  Christmas  Eve,  will  they  dance     again,     with     the 

shadows  on  floor  and  wall? 

Will  memories  be  forgotten  when  the  dear  ones  do  return, 
When  the  mistletoe  hangs  above  us,  and  the  Yule  logs 

brightly  burn? 


58  From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


A  BACHELOR'S  REVERIE 

As  I  sit  beside  the  fire, 
With  the  study  lamp  turned  low, 
Half  in  dream  and  half  in  reverie 
As  the  evening  hours  go, 

I  have  just  received  a  message 
From  a  maid,  loved  years  before, 
Asking  to  return  her  letters — 
Records  of  our  dream  of  yore. 

As  I  hold  the  precious  package, 
History  of  fairy  tales, 
Lovingly  I  touch  the  covers, 
And  my  resolution  fails. 

Will  she  miss  the  faded  flowers, 
Pressed  between  the  pages  there? 
Or  the  little  lock,  so  golden, 
Stolen  from  her  sunny  hair? 

See,  she  stands,  a  dainty  mortal, 
Robed  in  gown  of  azure  hue, 
Underneath  the  spreading  branches 
Of  a  mighty  forest  yew. 

And  the  birds  sing  at  her  coming, 
And  the  flowers  at  her  feet 
Nod  their  daisy  heads  and  whisper 
To  the  grasses,  as  they  meet. 

And  again,  in  royal  splendor, 
In  a  ball  room,  brightly  lit, 
And  a  crowd  of  her  adorers, 
All  impatient,  round  her  flit. 

Gracious  to  each,  as  she  passes, 
As  the  strains  of  waltz  are  heard, 
Eyes  are  sparkling,  laughter  ripples, 
As  all  linger  for  a  word. 


From  Taj-Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  59 


Through  the  early  dawn  of  Sabbath, 
To  the  chapel  in  the  vale, 
Where  the  bells,  in  chorus  chiming, 
Vibrant  over  hill  and  dale. 

In  the  choir  I  hear  her  singing, 
Catch  a  glimpse  of  softer  light, 
As  her  voice  is  raised  in  rapture, 
Chanting  anthems  in  the  night. 

Listen,  listen  to  the  Ave, 

As  the  harmonies  unfold, 

Prayers  take  flight  to  higher  regions, 

Blessings  will  descend,  untold. 

And  I  sigh,  as  visions  vanish 
Of  a  great  love,  won  and  lost ; 
Must  these  precious  written  missives 
In  the  fire  be  careless  tossed? 

No,  I'll  crave  once  more  her  pardon 
For  a  fault  not  wholly  mine, 
Giving  her  a  life's  devotion, 
Love,  an  offering  at  her  shrine. 

Yes,  I'll  send  a  shaft  from  Cupid 
Out  into  the  starry  night 
And,  into  her  heart,  the  arrow 
Surely  sinking  out  of  sight. 

Quick — a  telegram,  one  word  only — 
Forgive — and  one  in  answer — Come. 
Thank  God,  the  trouble's  ended, 
And  our  lives  are  joined  in  one. 

Still  another  vision  passes, 
As  the  night  creeps  on  apace; 
Raptures  beyond  expression 
Time  or  place  can  ne'er  efface. 


60  From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


Like  a  pale  and  stately  lily, 

Veiled  and  crowned  with  blossoms  white, 

See,  she  stands  before  the  altar, 

Like  a  phantom  in  the  light. 

And  the  strains  of  martial  music 
Fill  their  souls  with  pure  delight, 
As  he  softly  whispers  to  her — 
"Happiness,  my  dearest  wife." 

Nevermore  to  drift  asunder, 
As  the  wedding  bells  do  peal, 
Cupid,  you're  a  curious  fellow, 
With  your  arrows,  made  of  steel. 


A  NOSEGAY  TO  MARY 

A  red  rose  for  love,  to  one  most  dear, 
Forget-me-not,  though  far  from  here, 
A  lily  of  peace  for  the  coming  year. 

A  rose's  soft  leaf,  to  touch  your  cheek, 
And  into  the  pansie's  heart  you  must  seek 
For  a  thought  I  send  with  the  violet  meek. 

Though  often  silent,  through  many  a  year, 
Both  have  had  griefs  and  sometimes  a  tear ; 
Yet  a  nosegay  I  gather  for  Mary  most  dear. 

Now  at  the  Noel,  a  picture  is  cast 

Of  two  little  children  who  lived  in  the  past, 

Living  and  loving  as  long  as  life  last. 

A  garland  of  thoughts  I  send  to  you,  dear, 
With  many  good  wishes  for  your  Christmas  cheer 
Twined  with  sunshine  and  love  for  the  coming  New 
Year 


From  Taj-Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  61 


TO  AN  AUTHORESS 

A  stirring  of  the  soul 

In  silence  of  the  night ; 

To  realms  of  fantasie 

Will  consciousness  take  flight. 

In  visions  clear  I  see 
This  child  of  fancy  free, 
And  how  I  try  to  lure 
And  bring  her  back  with  me. 

On  wings  of  thought  she  brings 
A  picture  to  the  mind, 
That  must  be  put  in  words 
To  benefit  mankind. 

In  fiction  or  in  fact 
I  clothe  this  thought  revealed; 
Out  into  the  world  it  goes, 
With  many  a  truth  concealed. 

And  in  the  story  weave 
A  tale  of  love  or  law, 
Of  politics  of  the  day, 
Religion  or  strife  of  war. 

For  books  may  tell  the  truth 
Without  the  fear  of  death, 
And  purify  the  world  of  thought 
With  satire's  fiery  breath. 

The  ever  wise  dame  Fame 
Stands  ready  to  enwreathe 
The  soul  so  noble  in  her  work, 
And  her  name  to  the  world  bequeath. 


62  From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


CALIFORNIA  WOMEN 
(A  Toast.) 

I  have  traveled  afar  from  our  sunny  clime, 

And  crossed  the  ocean  many  a  time, 

To  India's  gardens  and  Africa's  sands, 

And  around  the  world  through  tropical  lands. 

Amongst  the  daughters  of  every  race 
I  have  rarely  seen  wit,  beauty  and  grace 
To  compare  with  our  California  maid, 
Whose  various  charms  seem  never  to  fade. 

The  starry  lights  of  our  sapphire  sky 
Impart  a  twinkle  to  every  eye; 
As  the  sun  dips  low,  with  never  a  care, 
A  ray  remains  in  her  golden  hair. 

The  rose  leaves  its  blush  on  every  cheek, 
And  the  dewdrop  on  lips  its  shelter  seeks; 
The  glorious  freedom  of  women  abounds 
As  the  New  Year's  bells  ring  their  joyful  sounds. 

California  women,  be  it  ever  known, 
And  in  1915  'twill  be  plainly  shown, 
Stand  first  in  rank  of  beauty  and  worth, 
And  their  praises  will  ring  all  over  the  earth. 


From  Taj-Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  63 


OUR  ROSALIE 

Our  dear  one  is  going  far  over  the  sea, 

To  the  isle  in  the  ocean  blue, 

O'er  the  billows  deep,  where  the  mermaids  sleep, 

And  the  stars  their  evening  vigils  keep, 

To  her  friends  so  many  and  true. 

Our  Rosalie. 

Her  charming  grace  of  figure  and  face, 
Her  loving  brown  laughing  eyes; 
Her  sweet,  soft  voice,  and  a  smile  so  rare, 
And  her  winning  ways,  can  only  compare 
To  the  sunlight  in  morning  skies. 

Our  Rosalie. 

We  will  miss  you,  dear,  on  each  coming  year, 
And  will  waft  you  good  wishes  afar, 
From  our  hearts'  deep  love  to  the  heavens  above, 
They  will  fly  on  the  wings  of  love 
And  reach  you  wherever  you  are. 

Our  Rosalie. 

So  never  farewell,  but  au  revoir, 
Till  you  return  to  your  native  state; 
Then  old  friends  you'll  find,  and  a  welcome  kind, 
And  a  garland  of  flowers  for  you  they'll  bind, 
As  you  sail  through  the  Golden  Gate. 


64  From  Taj-Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


THE  BIRTH  OF  LOVE 

A  thousand  bells  ring  out, 
Midst  the  darkness  of  the  night ; 
And  voices  join  in  anthems  sweet 
To  tell  the  story  aright. 

How  Love  was  born  on  Christmas  morn 
Within  the  heart  of  a  child, 
Bringing  peace  and  good  will  to  all  the  earth, 
So  pure  and  undefiled. 

They  sin,  who  tell  us  love  can  die, 
For  it  burns  with  a  flame  divine ; 
From  heaven  it  came,  to  heaven  returns, 
The  wonderful  mystic  sign. 

Sent  from  time  to  time,  by  the  Father  of  love, 
To  live  in  a  human  form, 
And  descend  at  last,  like  a  peaceful  dove, 
To  every  soul  that  is  born. 

Life  with  avarice  and  vanities  fraught, 
Earthly  with  passions  of  earth; 
Ambition  in  heaven  cannot  dwell ; 
All  perish  where  they  have  birth. 

But  love  is  indestructible, 
Too  oft  a  troubled  guest ; 
Its  holy  flame  forever  burns, 
Though  oft  deceived  and  oppressed. 

Here  it  is  tried  and  purified, 
Then  in  heaven  it  seeks  its  rest ; 
Sowing  here  with  infinite  toil  and  care, 
But  its  harvest  is  waiting  there. 

Fifty  years  ago  true  love  was  born 
In  two  hearts  that  still  beat  as  one ; 
And  the  flame  that  was  lit  by  love  divine 
Like  Bethlehem's  star  will  ever  shine. 


From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  65 


WIT-HUMOR 


Wit  and  humor  is  the  spice  of  life. 
All  work  and  no  play  makes  Jack  a  dull  boy. 
If  the  world  were  all  trouble  and  strife 
We  would  all  very  soon  be  tired  of  life. 

But  now  and  again  to  be  merry  and  gay, 
With  a  laugh  and  a  jest  to  help  pass  the  day, 
Keeps  old  Time  a-moving  along  the  highway. 

So  suppose  in  a  strong  box  we  put  care  aside 
And  let  the  Imp,  Wit,  in  Care's  place  abide, 
Then  put  down  the  lid,  locking  Trouble  inside, 
And  laugh  with  the  world  as  it  passes  us  by. 

This  Imp  is  a  coy  one, 
Treat  him  well,  and  he'll  stay; 
But  trying  to  chain  him, 
He'll  soon  fly  away. 

So  here's  to  our  Salon, 
May  it  sharpen  our  wits; 
So  laugh  and  be  merry 
Without  having  fits. 

For  there's  talent  amongst  us, 

And  surely  we'll  find 

A  Browning,  de  Stael,  or  still  better  kind ; 

And  surely  there's  monkey  enough  in  us  all 

To  respond  to  wit  and  humor  when  called. 

So  rise  with  your  glass,  filled  full  to  the  brim, 
And  drink  a  big  bumper  till  twilight  begins. 
A  health  to  the  Salon, 
A  health  to  its  guests, 


66  From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


A  health  to  our  lady,  the  best  of  the  best. 
And  again  to  this  Imp, 
May  his  sceptre  hold  sway, 
And  through  the  New  Year  we  may  coax  him  to  stay. 

Our  hostess,  our  hostess, 
Let  us  rise  to  respond, 
And  may  wit  and  humor 
In  her  ever  be  found. 

May  the  New  Year  bring  gifts 

To  us  all  every  day, 

Now  surely  I've  had  quite  a  time  for  my  say. 

To  the  Salon,  the  Salon, 

May  it  flourish  always. 


SWASTIKA. 

Since  time  began,  Swastika  cross 
Held  sacred  by  ancients  of  every  clime, 
From  the  snows  of  the  Norsemen  to  India's  sands, 
And  the  primitive  races  all  over  the  lands. 
The  four  winds  of  heaven  will  carry  along 
To  the  wearer  of  Swastika,  their  burden  of  song, 
Long  life  and  prosperity,  good  luck  untold 
This  ancient  symbol  of  mysteries  unfold. 


From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  67 


AUF  WIEDERSEHEN 

We  join  in  love,  'round  festal  board, 
To  wish  our  friend  the  New  Year's  cheer, 
And  bring  a  garland  of  bright  flowers 
To  wreath  her  whom  we  hold  most  dear. 

In  regal  home  she  welcomes  ail, 
With  love-light  shining  in  her  eyes ; 
And  golden  memories  will  recall 
Her  gentle  mien  and  soft  replies. 

Where  flaming  tokay  clusters  hung 
'Midst  scintillating  opal  hues, 
And  charming  melodies  are  sung 
And  poesy  our  souls  enthuse. 

In  dreams,  the  lighted  room  we  see, 
Where  higher  minds  find  sure  retreat, 
And  earthly  cares  and  shadows  flee, 
As  one  and  all  in  friendship  meet. 

Soul  calls  to  soul  in  quick  response; 
Wit,  wisdom,  hand  in  hand  with  love, 
Like  fairy  sprites,  let  loose  for  once 
In  joyous  play,  from  realms  above. 

So  let  us  weave  a  garland  fair, 
To  crown  our  queen  till  life  shall  end; 
Each  flower  a  happy  wish  will  bear, 
Of  life's  great  gifts,  to  our  dear  friend. 

May  every  day  bring  sunshine  bright, 
To  flood  thy  path  with  golden  ray ; 
And  every  night,  may  starry  eyes 
Watch  o'er  thy  sleep  till  break  of  day. 

Auf  wiedersehen — auf  wiedersehen, 
Till  soul  takes  flight  to  higher  realms. 
We  meet  and  part  and  meet  again- 
Auf  wiedersehen — auf  wiedersehen. 


68  From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


OUR  CAPTAIN 

A  summer  day  we'll  spend  by  the  sea, 
On  a  cliff  overhanging  the  sand, 
And  drink  a  joyful  toast  to  thee; 
Welcome  back  to  our  poppy  land. 

The  sun  is  high  and  his  golden  beams 
Like  a  mantle  of  amber  enfolds 
One  we  most  prize,  and  with  love  in  our  eyes 
We  meet  where  old  ocean  rolls. 

Oh,  summer  day,  so  wondrous  bright, 
By  the  side  of  the  Golden  Gate, 
The  rocks  are  lulled  by  the  billows'  song, 
And  we  laugh  till  the  hour  grows  late. 

Like  a  lighthouse  sentinel  on  the  shore, 
Forever  shalt  thou  be, 

To  stand  at  the  helm  of  the  California  Club, 
A  miniature  ship  at  sea. 

We'll  wrestle  with  the  tides  of  Fate 
As  the  hour-glass  sands  run  low, 
And  hear  the  murmurings  of  the  soul 
In  the  waters'  ebb  and  flow. 

And  youth  perpetual  will  hold  sway 
As  our  bark  glides  merrily  on, 
Upborne  by  the  waves  of  endeavor, 
For  our  lives  have  just  begun. 

As  the  incoming  tide  gathers  fold  on  fold, 
As  a  garment  of  shimmering  white, 
Our  hands  we'll  join  and  friendly  cheer 
Will  illume  our  spirit  with  light. 

In  a  toast  let  us  join  to  our  friends  most  dear, 
And  our  Captain,  our  honored  guest, 
To  our  sailors  all,  who  respond  to  her  call, 
To  the  youth  which  lies  in  each  breast. 


From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  69 

WEDDING  BELLS 
Our  Florence 

My  true  love  has  come  across  the  sea 

With  tender  light  in  his  eyes, 
The  bells  will  ring,  and  the  stars  will  sing, 
And  whispers  of  love  the  breezes  will  bring, 

As  the  crescent  moon  sails  in  the  skies. 

The  tides  may  come  and  the  tides  may  go, 

By  the  tropical  isle  in  the  sea, 

And  the  north,  and  the  south,  and  the  east  wind  blow, 
As  they  carry  his  message,  wherever  they  go, 

Of  the  love  that  has  come  to  me. 

The  moonlight  shines  on  the  silver  shells, 

On  this  isle  where  love  was  born ; 
The  mermaids  tinkle  their  coral  bells, 
And  list  to  the  tale  that  the  lover  tells 

From  eve  till  dewy  morn. 

Leagues,  leagues  away,  'gainst  a  rock-bound  coast, 

Where  the  sapphire  sea  lies  bare, 
Where  the  billows  crash  and  the  breakers  dash, 
And  the  lighthouse  keepers  their  signals  flash, 

Lives  a  maiden  wondrous  fair. 

The  love  of  this  maid  is  as  pure  as  a  stream 

That  ripples  in  sheltered  dale, 
And  her  smile  as  sweet  as  an  April  Shower 
That  opens  the  buds  of  the  poppy  flower 

That   grow  in  the   sunny  vale. 

She  trembles  and  sighs,  but  with  rapturous  eyes 

Looks  over  the  orbed  sea, 
As  the  sun  dips  low  in  the  golden  west 
And  carries  a  message  to  him  she  loves  best: 

Ah!  come,  my  true  love,  to  me. 


70  From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


From  San  Carlos  hills,  with  its  rippling  rills, 

The  birds  sing  in  tender  strain 
Of  the  mated  pair,  youth  and  maiden  fair, 
May  their  lives  be  joyful,  without  a  care, 
And  the  zephyrs  take  up  the  refrain. 

A.nd  as  they  journey  on  ocean  crest 

To  Oahu's  silver  sands, 

The  cocoanut  palms,  with  their  feathery  tips, 
Wave  Aloha  to  the  great  white  ships, 

As  it  reaches  the  sunlit  lands. 

Aloha,  Aloha,  all  love  to  the  bride, 

And  Aloha  again  to  her  mate ; 
May  Destiny  weave  a  garland  of  flowers, 
And  sunshine  brighten  their  golden  hours, 

'Tis  decreed  by  the  dame  called  Fate. 


A  CALIFORNIA  JEWEL 
(Elena) 

In  California  mines  are  jewels  rare, 

Gems  of  priceless  worth, 
Countless  rubies  and  sapphires  blue 

In  the  bosom  of  Mother  Earth. 

In  ocean's  depths  the  mermaids  sleep, 
Rocked  in  their  coral  boat, 

Pearls  are  hidden  in  waters  deep, 
Where  the  silvery  moon-rays  float. 

Nestled  on  hillside,  a  garden  fair, 
Where  blushing  roses  grew, 

Beguiled  the  curious  Cupid 

And  his  bow-string  he  quickly  drew. 


From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  71 


For  in  the  heart  of  the  loveliest  flower 

He  spied  a  drop  of  dew, 
Scintillating  with  pearly  lights; 

So  aiming  his  dart,  it  flew, 

Awakening  the  rosebud,  that  quivering  stood, 

Its  petals  all  kissed  by  the  sun. 
And  Cupid  laughs  at  his  old  time  pranks, 

For  the  dew-drop's  life  has  begun. 

Did  it  drop  from  the  dome  of  the  starry  sky, 
When  the  evening  shadows  fell, 

Or  was  it  a  ray  from  a  sunbeam 
That  came  to  the  earth  to  dwell? 

Or,  was  it  a  thought  from  God, 

Rocked  in  the  rose's  breast, 
Sparkling  with  love  unborn, 

Waiting  a  loved  one's  caress? 

The  bridegroom  found  this  treasure  rare 

And  claimed  it  for  his  own, 
And  California's  brightest  gem 

Will  crown  and  grace  his  home. 

So  into  his  most  loving  care 

We  give  our  darling  bride, 
And  wreathe  with  flowers  the  nuptial  bands 

That  bind  him  to  her  side. 

All  blessings  arch  the  crystal  space 

Along  life's  rainbow  way, 
And  peace  and  love  surround  you  both, 

On  this,  your  wedding  day. 


72  From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


CLUB  TOAST  IN  SONG. 

Here's  to  the  Club,  of  women  so  fair, 
Here's  to  the  workers  so  fearless; 
Here's  to  our  friends  assembled  today 
Let's  laugh  and  be  merry  till  sunset. 

Chorus. 

Fill  up  your  glass,  let  the  toast  pass, 
Here's  to  the  club  members,  first  and  last. 
Toast  them  together,   or  toast   them   apart, 
Meeting  or  parting,  love  lives  in  each  heart. 

Here's  to  the  Presidents,  present  and  past. 
Each  has  the  glory,  as  long  as  it  lasts, 
Here's  to  the  future,  when  new  ones  appear, 
For  they  will  have  charge  of  the  morrow. 

Chorus. 

Weaving  a  garland  of  friendship  for  all, 
Ready  to  come  at  their  President's  call. 
Harmony  reigning,  and  calm  like  the  sea, 
Working  for  progress  and  unity. 

Chorus. 

Here's  to  the  Founder,  to  all  she's  most  dear, 
May  her  club-child  live  and  grow  year  by  year. 
Her  untiring  efforts  brought  it  to  life 
And  guarded  it  safe  from  every  strife. 

Chorus. 

Here's  to  our  club-house,  with  prospects  so  fair. 
Here's  to  our  President,  gracious. 
Here's  to  the  toastmaster's  laughing  blue  eyes 
And  officers  many  we  prize. 

Chorus. 


From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  73 


NOEL. 

In  every  heart  throughout  the  land, 
The  Christ-child  is  given  birth. 
Ring  out  glad  tidings  o'er  the  earth, 
Noel,  Noel. 

At  last  from  darkness  we  awake, 
The  sun  doth  shine  in  every  clime, 
The  bells  peal  out  with  every  chime, 
Noel,  Noel. 

We  feel  the  stirring  of  the  soul, 
The  still,  small  voice  at  last  is  heard, 
And  flutters  like  a  tiny  bird. 
Noel,  Noel. 

We've  found  the  Christ-child  in  our  breast, 
Ring  out  glad  bells,  the  morning  breaks, 
And  all  the  world  at  last  awakes. 
Noel,  Noel. 


OUR  MOTTO. 

Let  a  wish  go  forth  over  land  and  sea, 

From  the  frozen  north  to  our  Missions  grey 

One  word  only,  our  motto  be, 

Let  it  echo  from  mountain  to  emerald  bay, 

To  our  Golden  state,  our  land  so  free 
Prosperity!     Prosperity! 


74  From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


EASTER  MORN. 

Oh,  stately  lily  of  snowy  white, 
Rearing  thy  head  up  towards  the  light, 
Emblem  of  purity. 

Out  of  the  darkness  of  the  earth, 
Where  Mother  Nature  gave  thee  birth, 
Bursting  thy  prison  house. 

Seeking  the  touch  of  love  sublime, 
Waiting  the  kiss  of  warm  sunshine, 
Opening  thy  petals  rare. 

Fragrance  wafted  on  wings  of  the  morn, 
Telling  a  story  of  life  new  born, 
Soul  of  the  flower  released. 

Carrying  the  message  of  Easter-tide, 
Christ's  love  and  protection  with  us  abide 
Through  all  eternity. 

Open  thy  soul  to  the  rays  so  bright, 
Out  of  the  darkness  into  the  light, 
Blessings  of  Easter  morn. 

Glory  be  to  the  Father,  and  to  the  Son. 
Lift  our  voices  in  praise  till  earth's  day  is  done 
Since  God,  Love  and  Truth  are  One. 


From  Taj-Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  75 


CHRISTMAS. 

A  Babe  was  born  on  Christmas  morn, 
Where  Bethlehem's  star  shone  bright, 

And  the  wise  men  came  from  East  and  West 
To  follow  the  star  at  night. 

In  a  manger  they  found  this  wondrous  child, 
With  the  Virgin  Mother  so  calm. 

Shepherds  and  kings,  rich  gifts  did  bring, 
To  honor  and  praise  in  psalm. 

They  knew  the  soul  of  this  little  Child 
Was  a  Master  returned  to  the  earth, 

Bringing  peace  and  joy  to  the  people  all, 
To  redeem  them  from  mortal  birth. 

For  the  Father  has  sent  His  Son  to  men 
To  show  them  the  truth  and  the  light. 
On   Christmas   morn  this   Babe  was   born, 

Under  the  star  of  the  night. 

/ 

And  to-day  the  joyous  bells  peal  out 

Glad  tidings  of  ancient  days, 
The  great  and  small  throughout  the  land 

Turn  their  thoughts  to  love  and  praise. 

For  though  the  centuries  still  creep  by 
This  Christ-child  lives  in  our  hearts. 

And  His  power  is  felt  o'er  land  and  sea 
In  palace  and  lowly  marts. 

For  the  message  He  brings  is  peace  and  good  will 

And  truth  and  love  for  aye, 
Like  a  tiny  flame  hidden  deep  in  our  hearts, 

It  burns  with  eternal  ray. 


76  From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


For  'tis  fed  from  within,  where  the  spirit  dwells 

To  light  us  on  our  way. 
And  though  some  are  blind  to  the  mystic  sign, 

The  Spirit  waits  day  by  day. 

Then  this  still,  small  voice,  like  an  Angel's  breath 

Is  heard  by  the  Soul  Divine. 
The  sun  bursts  forth  in  each  human  heart 

In  joy  and  love  sublime. 

The  soul  of  each,  in  answer  soft 

Vibrates  to  the  touch  so  clear, 
And  on  winged  feet  we  journey  along 

And  the  earth  seems  a  heavenly  sphere. 

Peace,  peace  and  good  will  through  all  the  land. 

Let  us  join  with  the  heavenly  choir, 
And  lift  our  souls  to  the  Master's  call 

Ever  higher  and  higher  and  higher. 

And  then  each  wish  of  peace  and  good  will 

That  we  send  o'er  the  land  afar 
Will  return  to  our  hearts  in  love  double-fold 

Like  the  ravs  of  Bethlehem's  Star. 


From  Taj-Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  77 


TO  THE  STAR-TREADER. 

Why  tread  amongst  the  stars,  on  fancy's  languorous  wings? 
Why  only  hear  the  birds  and  rocks  and  tree  tops  sing? 
If  it  were  meant  for  soul  to  soar  to  realms  so  high 
Why  did  we  come  to  earth,  to  suffer,  live  and  die? 

Awake  from  thy  dream-trance,  in  worlds  as  yet  unknown. 

The  soul  will  not  advance,  if  thither  it  is  blown. 

The  butterfly  we  chase  will  ever  lure  us  on 

To  singe  our  painted  wings,  as  we  draw  near  the   sun. 

The  Master  sent  us  here  on  planet  Earth  to  live,  ' 
And  living,  in  the  might  of  our  great  gifts,  to  give 
The  younger  souls,  who  weary  linger  on  the  way 
With  dragging  heavy  burdens,  Karma's  debts  to  pay. 

Our  spirit  must  descend,  filled  with  a  love  divine, 
Nor  shirk  the  Master's  work,  nor  for  the  stars  repine. 
Earth's  children,  great  and  small,  heed  not  the  mighty  call, 
And  traveling  all  alone  the  narrow  path,  may  fall. 

So  from  thy  starry  heights,  come  mingle  in  the  fray, 
The  war  of  life  is  on,  so  why  do  you  delay? 
Earth's  life  is  near  the  end,  the  Cycle  almost  spent, 
To  help  the  weak  advance,  for  this  we  have  been  sent. 

But  we  of  many  lives,  have  nearer  reached  the  goal, 
So  can  with  loving  touch,  awake  the  sleeping  soul ! 
And  often  through  the  mire  of  ignorance  and  sin, 
A  voice  in  anguish  calls,  amidst  earth's  battle's  din. 

So  buckle  on  your  shield  and  come  and  lead  the  way 
The  road  to  victory  leads,  and  you  can  wounds  allay. 
Then  spirit  touches  spirit,  and  joins  the  moving  throng, 
As  each  soul  helping  brother,  will  join  in  heartfelt  song. 


78  From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


MEMORIES. 

I  found  in  a  dusty  corner 
A  book  all  ragged  and  torn, 

It  had  not  even  a  cover, 
Neglected  it  lay,  all  forlorn. 

The  leaves,  as  I  found  when  turning, 
Were  yellow  and  dim  with  age, 

Old  memories  then  awakened, 
With  the  songs  on  every  page. 

I  played  the  music  softly 
And  hummed  the  melodies  old, 

And  the  dim  past  came  before  me- 
Childhood's  memories  untold. 

And  picture  after  picture 

Came  forth  from  memory's  halls 

As  the  old,  forgotten  harmonies 
Re-echoed  from  the  walls. 

Days  of  childhood  passed  before  me 

In  a  hazy     golden  light; 
A  mother  and  sisters  loving 

Guarding  me  day  and  night. 

A  home  that  was  filled  with  laughter, 
With  music  and  with  song, 

As  youths  and  maidens  gathered, 
Happy  as  the  day  was  long. 

But  years  have  come  and  are  going, 
Laden  with  sunshine  and  tears, 

And  now  my  eyes  grow  misty 

With  the  thoughts  of  other  years. 

So  I  close  the  book  very  gently, 
Sacred  memories  are  buried  there, 

And  return  to  the  ever  present 
With  a  quiet,  heartfelt  prayer. 

Youth,  with  its  restless  longings, 
Like  a  sunbeam,  hastens  away, 

But  the  pictures  in  life's  gallery 
Will  forever  with  us  stay. 


From  Taj-Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  79 


AULD   LANG  SYNE. 

In  the  far  away  days  of  auld  lang  syne, 

We  came  through  cycles  strange; 
Old  earth  awoke,  and  thought  it  a  joke 

Our  life  and  love  to   arrange. 

When  you  were  a  tadpole  and  I  was  a  fish 

In  the  pre-historic  time, 
Our  hearts  were  rife  with  the  joys  of  life 

As  we  swam  through  the  mud  and  the  slime. 

Without  a  mind  we  lived  and  loved, 

Until  at  last  we  died, 
And  'neath  the  rocks  of  a  river-bed 

We  slumbered,  side  by  side. 

Years  rolled  on  and  a  new  dawn  came, 

And  old  earth  heaved  amain. 
Again  we  awoke,  all  scalded  and  tailed, 

And  crawled  into  light  again. 

'Neath  the  drooping  trees,  in  the  summer  breeze, 

We  coiled  ourselves  in  the  sun, 
With  never  a  rift  in  our  darkened  thoughts, 

Or  a  hint  at  a  life  to  come. 

We  lived  and  loved,  as  in  days  gone  by, 

And  happily  died  once  more, 
And  our  scales  and  tails  have  gone  to  dust 

On  the  sands  of  a  tropical  shore. 

And  time  did  come,  and  time  did  go, 

Till,  awakened  from  sleep  at  last, 
We  saw  the  light  of  a  brighter  day 

Emerge  from  the  night  of  the  past. 


80  From  Taj-Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


Then  through  the  trees  of  the  jungle  dense 

We  swung  in  the  air  so  free, 
And  seemed  to  develop  a  latent  sense 

As  we  climbed  the  cocoanut  tree. 

Life  was  cheery,  and  love  was  sweet, 
As  we  chattered  in  primitive  speech; 

And  we  jumped  and  played  the  livelong  day 
With  our  wonderful  hands  and  feet. 

These  beautiful  years,  we  lived  indeed, 

In  a  dreamy  sense  of  love. 
We  clung  to  each  other  through  tempest  and  storm 

With  a  dawning  light  from  above. 

So,  life  by  life,  and  love  by  love, 

Till  cycles  had  come  and  gone, 
And  a  savage  yell  ,o'er  mountain  and  dell 

Gave  echo  in  warlike  song. 

We  lived  and  loved,  by  right  of  might 

E're  human  laws  were  drawn; 
The  age  of  sin  did  not  begin 

'Till  the  savage  soul  had  gone. 

Lives  came  and  went,  but  love  remained 

As  over  the  changing  sod; 
Reason  and  intellect  were  born. 

With  a  sweet  dim  dream  of  God. 

He  sowed  the  seed,  in  the  Eons  past, 

And  tended  it  day  by  day; 
The  deathless  soul  sprang  into  light 

And,  coming,  is  here  to  stay. 


From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate  81 


And  it  has  taken  millions  of  years 

To  perfect  this  life  and  love ; 
And  if  years  seem  few,  your  life  is  new, 

And  its  source  is  the  Spirit  above. 

So,  a  toast  to  auld  lang  syne,  my  dears, 
May  we  meet  again  and  again; 

And  a  toast  to  the  Pioneer  Auxiliary, 
Where  love  and  good  fellowship  reign. 

Then  as  we  linger  at  luncheon  today 

O'er  many  a  dainty  dish, 
Let  us  drink  anew  to  the  time  when  you 

Were  a  tad-pole  and  I  a  fish. 


("To  Auld  Lang  Syne,"  toast  at  the  breakfast  of  the 
Woman's  Auxiliary  of  the  Society  of  California  Pioneers, 

April  5,  1913.) 


82  From  Taj -Mahal  to  the  Golden  Gate 


THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 

The  Golden  Gate  is  open  wide 

To  the  great  white  ships  coming  in  with  the  tide. 

The  rock-bound  coast,  by  night  and  day 
Casts  shadows  on  the  waters  gray. 
The  sun  in  golden  splendor  breaks, 
Kissing  the  hills,  as  the  morn  awakes 
Scattering  the  mists,  on  the  dancing  spray, 
And  in  golden  glory  clothes  the  day. 
The  breakers  echo  old  ocean's  lay, 
As  over  the  rocks  the  waters  play, 
Waking  soft  music  on  silver  sands 
To  welcome  the  stranger  from  foreign  lands. 
Then  the  sun  dips  low  as  the  hour  grows  late, 

And  twilight  falls  on  the  Golden  Gate ; 
The  ships,  like  phantoms  of  the  night, 

Seek  safety  within  the  harbor's  sight. 
The  star-dust  falls  in  a  golden  shower 
On  billowy  waves,  a  kingly  dower 
Of  jewels  rare  to  deck  our  Queen, 
The  Pacific,  rocking  in  moonlight's  sheen. 
The  light-house  guards  the  narrow  way 
As  the  beacon  lights  on  the  waters  play, 

To  illumne  the  way  and  allay  the  fears 
Of  the  mariner,  weary  with  toil  of  years. 
The  Golden  Gate  is  open  wide, 
We  list  to  the  call  of  the  ebbing  tide 
To  the  land  of  ceaseless  summer  time, 
To  the  flower-decked  hills  and  sunny  clime. 


The  Golden  Gate 


DAY 


Photomount 

Pamphlet 

Binder 

Gaylord  Bros.,  Inc. 

Makers 
Stockton,  Calif. 

PAT.  JAK.  21.  1308 


906189 


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